All That Glitters
by TheCookieRaiders
Summary: The story of the Hunger Games trilogy - told from a resident of the Capitol.
1. Forward

**Foreward** (Prologue, introduction, whatever the hell you want to call it. Read it.) This story was mainly written by me, Johanna. Annie helped a bit, but most of the time it was because my grammar and spelling isn't the greatest at two o'clock in the morning.

Basically, the story was written because I had a dream about a video game that was kind of like a mix of Fable 3 and Final Fantasy XIII, Skyrim, Matrix, and the House of Night Series. Then I started thinking about the Hunger Games, and that somehow led to this fanfic. I know it sounds crazy. I also don't know why the chapters are so freaking long. Annie and I can hardly write more than a half a page when our English teacher asks us to write.

I'm assuming the Hunger Games take place some time during the later part of mid or late spring.

This story is based on book, so when I say book 1 (2,3), I mean it like the book number. Like Book 1 would be The Hunger Games, Book 2 would be Catching Fire... you get the idea. This is definitely going to be long, but it shouldn't be any longer than a hundred chapters haha (awkward sigh).

It also contains spoilers, not just of the Hunger Games series, but of Portal 2, Fable 3, Legally Blonde, West Side Story, Book of Mormon, and Les Miserables.

Annie and I will also add pictures of the characters and other stuff on this page as time goes on, and if people like our friend's drawings.

** I RESERVE THE RIGHT TO EDIT THE STORY AS I GO ALONG. DO NOT BE SURPRISED IF I DECIDE TO MINORLY CHANGE CHAPTER CONTENTS.**

I'm not crazy.

Kthnxbai,

Johanna(DR?

Contains spoilers of a whole bunch of shit. Jo's crazy. Long fanfic. Awesome drawings.

*** The whole thing was supposed to be completed by now, but school gets in the way of everything.


	2. Chapter 1

Book 1, Chapter 1

Life in the Capitol isn't always as glamorous as the other Districts think it is.

"Hera? Hera, it's time to wake up," my maid Aemelia shakes me gently from my unconsciousness. My eyes open slowly. The morning light is shining directly on her round face and bleached white hair, making it give off a bluish glow. I kick my blanket off and glare at her. "Hurry up, Hera. Your parents are already at the table. I made croustades, and maybe if you would get up, your parents would let you have some of their mimosa." Screw it. She's not leaving. I sit up, and she hands me my silk robe and my asthma medicine. She tries to help me out of bed, but I wave her away. It takes me a moment to stand up.

"Would you like your glasses?" she says as I make my way from my bedroom. I wave her away again and begin to walk down the stairs. My dog follows Aemelia and me down to the dining room. I pick the dog up and carry him into the kitchen, where I set him on the counter top.

"Good morning Prince. Does baby want some peanut butter?" he licks my hand and I smile. I turn around to the cabinet and grab the jar of peanut butter. I then walk to the refrigerator and pull out a jar of pickles. This, is a good breakfast. I open both of the jars and give a spoon full of peanut butter to my dog.

"Come on, Hera. Don't let the dog lick the spoon," Aemelia says as she walks into the kitchen. I ignore her and giver Prince another spoon full of peanut butter, "And stop putting the dog on the table. It's unsanitary." Jesus, she just does not stop nagging. I take Prince off of the counter and he runs out of the kitchen.

"Aemelia, can you give me a glass of lemonade please?"

"And just why should I get you some? You didn't even _try_ my croustades. And you didn't even get up when I asked."

"I asked nicely."

"Mind your lisp, Hera Mozelle. You didn't ass me anything. Ask," I hate it when she points out my lisp. I have enough trouble speaking as it is, and pointing it out just makes it worse because I'm self conscious. I take the jar of pickles into the den and turn on the television. Prince jumps on the couch next to me while I flip through the channels. Suddenly, there's a knock on the window that makes me jump. My best friend, Apollo Gray, is waiting at the window. I chuckle and shake my head, standing up to let him in.

"Why can't you use the door like a normal person?" I say to him as he climbs into the room.

"It's not as fun. I can see you're ready to go places," he says, looking at my robe and pajamas . Of course, being the guy he is, he has his signature blue lipstick on, with his matching blue suit.

"Aren't you worried that you'll rip your suit?"

"No. Get acceptable clothing on. It's reaping day and I want to check out the tributes so I can make my wagers against Caliban and Priam."

"Fine, fine. Come on upstairs," we walk up the stairs, stopping for a moment to say good morning to Aemelia, who of course freaked out as soon as she saw Apollo. She always freaks out when she sees me with boys other than my cousins or father. Even though she and I have both known Apollo for all of his and my life. When we get to my bedroom, he walks straight to my closet and I sit down on my bed. Prince trots happily into my room and sits down next to me on. I smirk when I hear Apollo talking to himself about which dress and shoes I should wear. This is quite normal for me, because according to Apollo, I have zero sense of style.

"This one. Definitely," He pulls out a light blue and green, floor length, Victorian-era racing club dress. It even has a matching hat and parasol. I didn't even know I had that.

"Hell no. I will never wear that for as long as I live," I turn my head away from the dress and cross my arms.

"Come on, Her. I bet it looks amazing on you. Seriously," he sets the dress and accessories on the bed next to me, "Come on Hera. Please?" he begs. God damn him. He knows I can't resist his begging. His friggin' eyes get me every time.

"Fine. Fine. Whatever. Just get out of my room so I can change. I'm not putting my hair up."

"Oh yes you are. You didn't try my croustades. Time for payback," Aemelia says from the door way. Just kill me now. I hate the Capitol's way of dressing up to cross the street. And all of the makeup and body-altering. It's creepy. Personally, I can't stand wearing anything more than lip balm and mascara. The only times Aemelia has missed work since I was born was to get plastic surgery. It's revolting. I can stand piercings, though. I have six.

Apollo leaves the room and Aemelia dresses me and does my hair, which of course takes forever, since I have at least three feet of it. I stop her when she starts to put makeup on me. She lets Apollo in the room and he smiles when he sees me. I scowl at him and he escorts me down the stairs and out of my house.

"You made me wear this because you're also wearing blue," I say angrily. He smirks but says nothing.

When walking down the streets of the Capitol, most of the time you hear the typical Capitol accent. The odd vowels, clipped words, and hissed s sound. My family thinks I'm special because I have my grandmother's "tobacco drawl" and lisp, probably because she and Aemelia practically raised me. I sound more like someone from District 12 than from the Capitol. We walk in silence until we reach the city's big Social Tower, where the citizens make bets and what ever is being bet is kept in a vault.

"After you, Miss Vasik," he opens the door for me.

"Bite me." I walk through the door and see two of our classmates, Priam and Caliban. Joy. Three boys betting on another other human being's life. They lead us to an empty table and we sit down

"Okay... I bet fifty on the big one from District 11. I think his name is Thresh. What about you Cal?" Priam places fifty dollars in the middle of the table.

"Fifty on Marvel, District 1," Caliban places his fifty dollars on the table, "Apollo?"

"I guess the minimum is fifty, so I bet fifty on the girl with the face."

"Descriptive. I'm pretty sure most of them have faces," I say, rolling my eyes.

"You know. The ginger. District 5." he places his money in the center of the table, "Come on Hera. Place your bet."

"Katniss Everdeen. District 12," I take fifty dollars out of my clutch and place it in the table.

"Are you serious?" Priam scoffs.

"Yeah. Why?"

"Well for one," Priam speaks up, "She doesn't look strong enough to pick up Apollo's baby sister. She probably weighs a less than Prince, too." The four of us laugh, and he signals for an attendant to take our money to a locker. The attendant gives us the number of the locker and we leave shortly after.

* * *

><p>Hope you like it :) Please rate and review so I know that people actually like this.<p>

Thanks,

Jo


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Today, Aemelia is getting plastic surgery again. So I have the house to myself until my parents come home.

First order of business: breakfast. Peanut butter and dog food for Prince, and coffee ice cream for me. I carry the container of ice cream and Prince's dog food into the den. Today's the day where the tributes are brought to the Capitol. Apollo is probably going to drag me to go see them, and force me to wear something ridiculous. He's dragged me to every ceremony for as long as I can remember. Prince starts to bark at the window. I turn to see Apollo climbing through it.

"Why?" I ask.

"Why not?" he replies. I scowl at him. He's wearing one of his many blue suits and his trademark blue lipstick. "Look what I got," he pulls out an old video game from the inside of his jacket pocket.

"Are you serious?" I take the game from him, "Assassin's Creed Revelations? They haven't made one of these since my grandparents were little. How the hell did you get this?"

"I found it in my grandfather's closet. Wanna try it out?" he smiles almost wickedly. I walk over to my home-made gaming system and put the disk into the tray without answering. Apollo picks up one of the two worn controllers and starts the game. I sit back down on the couch and wait for the game to begin.

I've only been playing this game with Apollo for what, most of the day? We've already beat most of the multiplayer levels. This is still by far the best video game that Apollo has played with me, except for the Elder Scroll series. I love action RPGs, but usually the games that he finds in his grandfather's closet are shooter games like Halo. His grandfather had _a lot _of video games. He used to work for a gaming company or something.

"Wait, what time is it?" he pauses the game and looks at the clock, "It's almost time for the tributes to arrive. Get dressed. Want me to pick something out for you?"

"Yes," I say almost sulkily.

"Fine," he sighs. Most mornings during the year are like this. Apollo comes to my house because he can't stand his parents. I don't think that they hate him as much as he hates them, though. When Apollo's here, he dresses me up like a doll, and we do stuff like play paintball. His parent's aren't jobless, they're just teachers. College professors, actually. His parents either are very trusting of him or really don't care, because during the games and such, he usually spends a month and a half at my house. Once we reach my room, he instantly walks to my closet. Again, I wait patiently on my bed for him to finish. He pulls a burgundy ball gown. Where the hell does my mom get these dresses anyway?

"This one might be a little low," he says, "But I still think you should try it on. We have a little bit of time before we have to go."

"It's too low. It's show my scar." Yes, I have a scar across my chest. It's really unfortunate, since it's right above my boobs.

"Alright..." he says, digging through my closet again, "How about this one?" The next one is a metallic-ish gold dress, with a collar and long sleeves. I'm not really sure why it's supposed to be worn with pink tights, but that's not really much of my concern. I remember my mother wearing this dress a few years ago, though. Oh god. I'm turning into my mother...

"I like that one," I say. I stand up from my bed and take the dress from him, "Get out. I'm going to change. It's not going to be pretty,"

"Oh no. I can stay, really," he says jokingly. I throw a dog toy at him and he hurries out as I pick up another one.

It doesn't take me that long to change. I'm out within a few minutes. Apollo examines me to see if I'm fit for public exposure.

"You look great, Hera. I have one suggestion, though," he says as I walk out of my bedroom. I hate his suggestions. "You should wear your glasses," he rushes past me to get them before I can protest. I don't ever wear my glasses. Ever.

"No."

"Come on. You really don't look bad with them on," he says. We stare at each other for a minute. He wins, of course. If you think I'm weak, you try staring at his eyes for more than ten seconds. Those things will melt your soul.

"Fine." My glasses are the kind that you see in the really, really old magazines. You know, the big black ones that old people wore in the 1980's, which came back into style for some reason in the 21st century. These are the only ones that could be made to fit my prescription. But then again, I'd rather have that kind of clothing in style, meaning jeans and baggy tops instead of these ridiculous dresses and other feminine clothing Apollo makes me wear. I snatch my glasses out of his hand and put them on. It takes a while for my eyes to adjust, and when they do, we walk out into the coldish and toward the ceremony area. I can already tell that it is overly crowded before we get within a mile of it. Personally I cannot _wait _to see this year's tributes. If my twelve _actually _volunteered to be a tribute, I kind of fear for the others.

* * *

><p>I feel sort of bad that I didn't write more... sorry. Here are some announcements.<p>

I wrote this chapter WAAAY before Revelations was out, so at that time it sounded better.

I will be posting the link for a picture of Hera that Annie's and my friend drew. Just to let you know - she got the weight wrong, so if the picture says she's 125lbs, it's supposed to be 139lbs - and that should be fixed soon. She should be posting a picture for Apollo also.

Rate and review so I know that people like this,

Johanna


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

I overheat easily, even in the winter.

Somehow, we make it to the front of the crowd. I know I should be more excited, since some of _my_ own horses are going to be drawing the carriages tonight.

"Which four are in the parade tonight?" Apollo asks me. I can barely hear him over the crowd.

"Half-Note is District 1, Curtain Call is District 7, and Applejack and Rocky are District 12," I say. Half-Note if my show horse. My best.

"Here comes Half-Note," Apollo says to me. Half-Note does look quite beautiful, she is my best white horse, after all. She and another horse are decorated in gold. The horses have always been dressed in colors to match the District's product. Curtain Call is dressed in earthy tones and even has a few flowers braided into her mane. Applejack and Rocky's coats have been colored a charcoal grey. I hope that grey doesn't stain...

"Wait. Are the District Twelve tributes on fire?" I grab Apollo's arm to get his attention. If you haven't noticed, my animals are the one thing I love more than anything else. If they burn I swear to god I'm going to kill someone.

"I think they are. But it's synthetic or something, cause it's not burning anything," he sounds as concerned/amazed as I do. Apparently, most of the crowd behind us and on the other side of the road agrees. The quiet roar fades a little bit as people take in the sight before them. I glance at President Snow standing on his podium. I can't really describe the look on his face. Actually, I can never really tell how he's feeling. The two tributes look amazing the carriage, holding hands and everything. I'm surprised that none of us bet on the male tribute. He looks like he has a good chance of winning. He's big, but not super tall. The other tributes are dressed... strangely, I must say. Fish, power plant workers, golden warriors. I'm still worried about that fire. It is seriously giving me anxiety.

"Want some gum?" I turn to see Apollo holding a piece of chewing gum. I smile and take the gum out of his hand and pop it into my mouth. Gum helps with my anxiousness. Apollo always knows how to make me fell better. He's like my best girl friend, except he's obviously a guy.

To tell you the truth, there really is not that much to do at this celebration. Basically, you come to the City Circle, you watch the tributes ride by dressed most strangely, and then you go home and go to bed. The crowd silences suddenly, and I watch our great President Snow walk up to the edge of a giant stone balcony. Before he speaks, I receive a text message from Aemelia.

_You have to bring the horses back tonight. Find this guy named Doan. Would love to help but cant. Stables should be marked. - Aemelia_.

God dammit. Not only do I have to walk home, but I have to take four horses and a assumably whiny man. He probably won't even help me. So, I must come up with a plan to somehow give Apollo as little work as possible. But, little work for Apollo means more work for me, which also means that I could potentially be doing something very dangerous. Meh.

After Snow finishes the short speech, the audience claps. People start to leave once the tributes are safe wherever tributes go and Snow leaves the balcony. Apollo taps me on the shoulder and leads me through the crowd.

"We have to bring the horses back to my house," I say to him once we reach a slightly less crowded and quieter location. He says nothing, just stares at me in disbelief. "I didn't know about this until President Snow's speech, I swear." Oh, and another thing, Apollo hates horses.

"Don't expect me to be able to help much," he says a little coldly. Fine then. The two of us walk over toward the stable, a large building that looks like a business center. Odd actually. Large white walls, most likely stone, and two sliding glass doors. But on the inside, it looks the stable I have back home. Wooden walls, metal , and an open tack room. A serious looking man holding a tablet is standing in the middle. This must be Doan. He even looks like a horse. A handsome one, at least. Long face, long black hair, and he's pretty tall, too. His skin is obviously dyed, because normal skin does not fade from snow white to brown so dark it looks black. Apollo waits moodily by the door while I sort things out. When I tell Doan my name he says, "Vasik... that sounds familiar. Is your mother Corinna Gordon?" I nod my head and smile a little bit. My mother was gamekeeper about eight years ago. He smiles and nods his head as well. "Well tell her I say hi, okay? Your four are in the last few stalls," he looks over me for a second, "How do you plan on getting them home?"

"I didn't have much notice. I'm sure I'll figure something out," I say while walking toward the end of the stable. Rocky and Applejack are still gray, but the other two are out of their decorations. I brush my hand across Applejack's coat, and nothing comes off. Temporary dye, hopefully. What I am going to do is incredibly stupid, and I'm probably going to be killed by my father. Whatever. I motion for Apollo to join me, and like a good friend he kind of not really sucks up his emotions and helps me.

"Can you hold my shoes?" I ask him. He nods his head and takes my stilettos while I mount Applejack. Fortunately, the people took the halters and bridles along with my horses. I take Half-Note and Rocky while on Applejack, and I instruct Apollo to walk with Curtain Call. Now time for the hard part. I make a clicking noise with my tongue to tell to Applejack to walk and we slowly start on our way back to my house. Better safe than sorry.

"My feet hurt," Apollo says from behind me. I swear we haven't gone one hundred feet yet.

"I'm sorry. Make sure to keep Curtain Call away from the others. She's been marish," I keep my eyes open for anything that would make this trip more difficult than it already is.

"Pull you dress down. I can see underwear from back here." I purse my lips and shake my head.

"If I wasn't hold on to two horses and controlling a third with my feet, I would care more about my appearance." I hear him laugh a little bit behind me. I think about my situation and laugh a long with him. I'm in a really awkward situation. I'm walking three horses in the middle of the street back to my house, in a dress, with my underwear showing. After about forty-five minutes bareback on a horse with Apollo making fun of me, I finally get back home. Home sweet home. I dismount Applejack without shoes, which I regret, and lead the four into the stables and into their stalls. The other three of my horses make noises upon their arrival, but they are soon quieted. Once they are settled and comfortable, I get my shoes back from Apollo. I don't really know if he'll sleep at my house, nor do I care, but I just want to go to bed.

* * *

><p>I guess this one is more filler, but it did give out some important details for later...<p>

Yes, Apollo is a whiny princess.

Once I get in the habit of updating, I'll start playing with my schedule a bit more.

- Jo


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Aemelia came back today. She tells me it was a necessary surgery, that cottage cheese was appearing on her ass.

The past few days have been the training period for the tributes, and tonight the tribute's abilities will be tested and graded. They're going to be interviewed tomorrow, which is my favorite part of the games. As tradition, Apollo will come over like he always does, and we will kill time until the scores are posted at three o'clock.

"Who do you think is going to get the highest score?" I ask Apollo. He's "helping" me clean out my closet.

"Thresh, maybe," he says, "But you never know. Remember last year? The really strong looking tributes got lower scores than the others." He picks up a mysterious article of clothing and throws it in a corner.

"Okay... Let's put the clothes I'm gonna throw away in the corner," I pick up another strange piece of clothing

"Good. That's what I've been doing. I really want that little girl from District 11 to win. Rue. She's so cute."

"Shut up, Apollo. You sound creepy. If you want her to win so much then call up Priam and change your bet," I examine a dress that I've never worn. Eh, I'll wear it some day.

"I'm not creepy. I just want her to make it in the games. A good score will get her sponsors." We both stop what we're doing when we hear Aemelia squeal and something break downstairs.

"She broke a plate. Again." I shake my head and hang the dress back up.

"Did you ever finish Portal 2?" Random subject change. Good ol' Apollo.

"Nope. I got pretty far though."

"What happened to GLaDOS?"

"Wheatley turned her into a potato and took over Aperture. But in the end she regains control... I think." I have never understood this game.

"Well... okay," Apollo says, looking at his watch. By the his widened eyes I can tell that it's three o'clock. We race downstairs and turn on the television. Missed the part where they go individually, but that doesn't really matter. My tribute got the highest score I've seen for a long time. Eleven out of twelve.

"Wow. My tribute did pretty well. How did Thresh do?" I ask.

"He did okay. Got a nine Your tribute did amazing. I don't think I've ever seen a better score."

"Me neither." We break for a very late lunch of slightly underdone pancakes, just how I like them.

"I guess she's not as weak and defenseless as we though she was," Apollo says after finishing his pancake. He's talking about my tribute. I glare at him.

"Fine. As _I_ thought she was. And Priam. I'm not sure about Cal, though." he crosses his arms and puts his head down on the table. I take a drink of water.

"I guess she just might win the Hunger Games after all," I say. Apollo and I look at each other and he laughs.


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

This is the last night that Apollo is going to make me dress up. That was a lie, I'm sorry.

I finally decided to wash Applejack. Good news- the dye didn't stain her nice palomino coat.

I'm pretty sure that Apollo has been waiting up all night to see the interview outfits. He loves fashion. He doesn't want to work on the prep team, though. He'd much rather be an actor. Personally, I want to be an engineer. But, my parents have other plans. They want me to be a surgeon, like my father. I already have _some_ medical training from my dad, like I know how to do stitches and relocate people's joints and stuff like that, but I don't really want to do that and cut up people for a living. I'd rather build trains and cars and bombs and stuff.

I decide on dressing myself this morning. I choose a nice cobalt blue satin shirt and a black cotton skirt, with moderately sized black heels.

"Wow. You actually look nice today, Hera," he says examining my choice of outfit. He stops at my feet. "You gave yourself a henna tattoo."

"Yeah. Yesterday," I step out the front door and continue to walk to the City Circle. Apollo hates henna tattoos. With a fiery passion.

"Why did you do that?" he has to run to catch up to me.

"I felt like it." Silence followed this answer. Sweet, sweet silence.

Something must be on Apollo's mind. He's never this quiet. We walk in silence until we reach the City Circle. A lot of citizens are already there, dressed in ridiculous outfits. Again, we some how make it to the front of the crowd. Apollo has skill, I must say. The tributes are already there, looking amazing. The Glimmer girl is more beautiful in person, Thresh is scarily tall and strong-looking, and the boy from District 12 is even handsome. He looks pretty confident, too. My tribute, on the other hand, is shaking so hard that it looks like she's going to explode.

I glance over at the stylists. They all look familiar, except for one. He was pretty normal looking. He was dyed or altered in any way, his hair was even it's natural color. He wasn't even dressed extravagantly. He was wearing a simple black shirt and pants. I like this guy.

"Do you know who the new stylist is?" I whisper to Apollo. He usually knows all of the stylists, since his mother teaches the majority of them.

"I don't know, but the District 1 girl is hot." I punch his arm. He smiles like he knows he deserved it, "And Caesar stole my color. That bastard..." I shake my head. I almost listen to the interviews, but it's really hard to pay attention to things that you don't really care about. I just want the games to start already.

"The lamb stew," I catch my tribute saying. Lamb stew?

"The one with the dried plums? Oh, I eat it by the bucketful," Caesar Flickerman says, turning to the side to show us his stomach, "It doesn't show, does it?" Oh my. Caesar is such a character. That response earns him laughs and applause from the audience. He's always so sympathetic to the tributes. He knows how to make people feel comfortable.

"It _is _good," Apollo mumbles to me. I smirk and shake my head. I cannot deny the truth of that statement. Lamb stew with dried plums is absolutely amazing. I listen politely to my tributes struggles. Her love for her sister and her need to win. She really is strong.

The audience gives a roaring applause, and continues it even after she is seated. The male tribute is next. Peeta Mellark. What a name. He has a great personality, so the he has audience attention right away. He almost reminds me of a shorter, blond Apollo. Peeta's a baker's son. He compares the tributes to breads from their district. It's quite interesting, actually. And funny, too. The tribute tells a story about his first interaction with a shower from the Capitol. Of course, everyone in the audience can relate to that. Rose scented foam. I watch Apollo shudder from the corner of my eye. Caesar asks him about his girlfriend, and of course he doesn't have one. I bet he does have one, but he just doesn't want to embarrass her or something. The crowd is absolutely silent with anticipation.

"Well, there is this one girl," the tribute says.

"Knew it," I mutter.

"I've had a crush on her ever since I can remember. But I'm pretty sure she didn't know I was alive until the reaping." Sounds of sympathy come from the crowd. Another thing people can relate to. Unrequited love. Even Apollo lets out a sigh.

"Does she have another fellow?" Caesar asks. He looks legitimately sympathetic.

"I don't know, but a lot of boys like her," he says.

"So here's what you're going to do. You win, you go home. She can't turn you down then?" Caesar says encouragingly. I love Caesar.

"I don't think this is going to work out. Winning... won't help in my case," says Peeta. His voice has decrescendo-ed to be barely audible.

"Why ever not?" A mystified Caesar asks. It's not like he's the only one. We're all intrigued. The tribute blushes and stammers. He's so cute.

"Because... because... she came here with me."

"Oh shit." This time, Apollo wasn't hit for his comment.

* * *

><p>Two chapters for you today! I felt bad that four was so short...<p>

Rate and review and I will post again on Thursday :)

- Johanna


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Wow. I truly did not see that one coming.

The camera turns to my tribute. She doesn't seem to realize what happened until this very moment. She stares at the floor and purses her lips.

"Oh, that is a piece of bad luck," Caesar says, with and edge of pain in his voice. Apollo and a few others murmur in agreement.

"It's not good," the tribute says. Obviously this isn't good. One or both of you are going to die in the games. I let out a sigh and bring my hand to my mouth. I don't care if Aemelia doesn't want me biting my nails. The suspense of not knowing what she thinks is making me anxious. My tribute is blushing. Not as much as this one did, but it's definitely prominent. Almost as much as I did during speech class last year. I shudder. I want to hear her response. I want to know what my tribute has to say to Peeta.

"Wouldn't you love to pull her back out here and get a response?" The crowd screams in reply, and I mean literally _screaming_ at Caesar. "Sadly, rules are rules, and Katniss Everdeen's time has been spent. Well, best of luck to you, Peeta Mellark, and I think I speak for all of Panem when I say our hearts go with yours."

The applause from the audience is so loud that I have to cover my ears. The tribute says a quiet thank you and returns to his seat. The national anthem plays, and for the whole time the cameras are on the two District 12 tributes. But throughout the anthem, I can't stop thinking that that was all fake, that he isn't really in love with her. I'm usually wrong about things like that, but I really feel that they don't love each other. Once the anthem is over, the tributes walk back into the Training Center. Apollo grabs my arm and we leave the big crowd of people.

"These Hunger Games are turning out to be more work than they're worth," he runs his hands through his brown hair. He does not like drama, it's a waste of his time.

"Star-crossed lovers. I don't believe it," I cross my arms. Personally I think this is going to be one of the best games that I am going to see. I love drama, just not when I'm involved in it.

"He can't be in love with her. It's not that she's unattractive, but she just seems so vile." We walk in silence until we get back to my house, where he leaves me at the door.


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

I know I'm not going to bed even before I'm home.

I stay up in the kitchen and bother Aemelia until she finally gives up, her bleached hair starting to fall out of it's neat pouf, and sends me to my bedroom. It's around 11:00 by now. I change into my night clothes and sit on my bed, Prince happily sitting next to me. I don't know how long I was sitting there when my mobile phone rings. Of course, it's Apollo.

"What do you want?" I say, in a hushed voice so I don't wake anyone up.

"Want to go to a celebration the Training Center?" Someone calls his name again.

"Yeah sure. I can't sleep, anyway," I get up from my bed and go to my closet, "What do you want me to wear?"

"Something nice."

"Be a little more descriptive please."

He sighs. "Your navy ball gown with the rhinestones. It has the sweetheart neckline but you could cover your chest with the silk shawl that my sister gave you for your fourteenth birthday. It's a little darker than the dress."

"Do you watch me sleep from my closet or something?" I ask him.

"Just get dressed and meet me outside of your house," he says hurriedly.

"Okay" I hang up and get dressed. This dress is really pretty. Before I put on my shawl, I look in the mirror. I run my hand along the line of pale, puckered skin across my chest. I smile a little bit and wrap the shawl around my shoulders and fasten it with a pin. I start to wonder if Apollo really does watch me sleep from my closet. It's something he would do.

"What are you doing?" Aemelia says to me from my bedroom door.

"Getting dressed for the celebration," I say nonchalantly. She smiles at me from the doorway.

"Whatever," she walks past my bedroom.

"I'm leaving now." I stick diamond earrings in my ears and walk out the front door, where Apollo is waiting patiently. In a blue tuxedo, different from his blue suits, but still blue. The same color as Caesar Flickerman's hair. But something looks different about him. After we start walking I realize what it is.

"You're not wearing your lipstick," I stop him. "Why?"

"Well," he puts his hands in his pockets, "I decided to look 'normal'," he airquotes the word, "For you." That made the both of us smile. I entwined my arm with his and we walked to the City Circle.

"I brought just in case I decided to put it on."

"Bastard."

* * *

><p>Chapter 8 is going to be kind of long, so here are two shorter chapters to hold you over until then. Don't forget to rate and review! If you have any type of questions for me just send me a message. Annie or I will respond.<p>

Apollo can be kind of a bitch sometimes. Hera is actually the man of the two.

Updating again on Monday,

Johanna


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

I don't do any dancing except ballroom in public.

The celebration is big as always. More than half of the citizens of the Capitol are here, all dressed up. There's a lot of food, singing and dancing. It's a wonder the tributes can't hear it.

"Want to dance?" Apollo says, taking my hand with any response and leading me into a crowd of people. Some musicians are playing an upbeat waltz. Apollo and I take the ballroom position and start dancing. He looks down at me and smiles

"Don't look at me like that," I say to him, trying to keep myself from smiling. He's much taller than I, me being 5'7 and he being at least six feet tall. He has to look down at me to talk to me, but sometimes the ways he does it makes the moment so awkward.

"I'm just looking at you," he says. I raise my eyebrows.

"Sure you are," I say teasingly, and brush some hair out of my face. He spins me.

"I think two of the tributes are watching us," he says while looking up. I squint to see them better, which is useless because I'm pretty much blind. They only way I could tell was from the blurred colors that didn't match the rest of the building.

"Want me to wave at them?" he starts to raise his hand. I pull it down and laugh.

"Don't."

"Fine. So what are you doing about school next year?" We resume our dancing position. School. My parents were thinking about sending me to "medical school", since I graduated in December and am going to be turning eighteen this January.

"I think I'm going to start working with my dad. I'm still going to be part of the theater, though. What about you?" His expression turns melancholy.

"I have _no_ idea. I might stay in theater, but I have no idea about what I'm going to do for a living," he spins me again. His parents were never really supportive of his life plans.

"You could study fashion and be a stylist." He smiles. He knows I know he wants to be an actor. The music stops and everyone applauds the musicians. They thank the audience and start to play a slow song.

"You want to stop dancing?" Apollo asks. I shake my head and wrap my arms around his neck, barely able to reach. He gives me a little smile and wraps his arms around my waist.

"Don't get any ideas. I don't get to slow dance very often," I say warningly. He nods slowly and smiles again. The song is familiar. It sounds like something that my grandmother sang to me when I was really little. _I don't feel any pain. A little fall of rain can hardly hurt me now..._

"Les Miserables," he says, "A Little Fall Of Rain. The song where Éponine dies."

"I think you're ri-" I'm cut off by one of my old classmates. She grabs my arm and starts talking to me.

"Oh my God Hera! I haven't seen you in like _forever_! How have things been? Hi Apollo. What about you?" She manages to some how drag us both out of the dancing crowd and toward a group of Apollo's and my old classmates.

"As I was saying... Cassandra?" my friend Diana says. Her boyfriend, Caius, brushes a lock of her bubblegum pink hair out of her face. Diana is that type of dainty, sickly-sweet rich bitch that you sometimes want to slap in the face but you never do for some reason. Cassandra, the one with the hair that's shaped into a peacock and who pulled Apollo and me away from dancing, is rushing around, talking to almost every person she can. She stops and turns to us. Cassandra has a short attention span, if you haven't noticed already.

"I want a picture of the girls," she says, pulling a camera out of the bodice of her dress. She used to keep everything in there.

"Have you been carrying that the whole time?" a quiet boy by the name of Ceres says. He didn't talk much during class, but he was in a few productions with me. Cassandra smiles but says nothing. She makes Diana and me, and another girl with bright orange hair named Imogen squeeze together while she tells Apollo how to take the picture. She's always had a crush on Apollo, and she makes it pretty obvious. I'm not really sure if Apollo is totally oblivious about it or if he's choosing to ignore it. Cassandra finally chooses to join us.

"Okay. Smile," he says. We stay frozen until he says we can move. There is definitely enough light here for no flash.

"Oh my god thank you so much!" Cassandra takes the camera from him and hugs him. He hugs her awkwardly back. Yep, he's just ignoring it.

"What about the boys?" Imogen asks. All the boys look at her and she shrugs.

"I think we should get a picture of them," I say. I motion for Apollo to apply his lipstick, which he does happily. All the girls stand behind Cassandra as she takes the picture. All of the guys look nice, but strange with all the different colors of hair and the dyed and natural skin. I wonder if the tributes think we look as strange as I think we do.

"Thank you!" she says. We spend the rest of the time talking about out life plans. Ceres was recruited to be a Peacekeeper, Cassandra plans on attending the University, Caius and Diana are searching for government jobs, Imogen is going to take over her parent's candy store, and I'm becoming a "doctor", otherwise known as a work monkey.

"What about you Apollo?" Diana says. He does his best not to hesitate to answer.

"I'm going to go to school to become a... stylist," he says, pretty convincingly in my opinion. We're sitting at a table, drinking what I'm pretty sure is champagne. It's disgusting.

"Cassandra, do you know what the theater production is this autumn?" Diana asks. She really likes ones with girly female roles.

"The only thing I know about the theater this season is that Adriana is directing," Cassandra curls a strand of peacock blue hair around her finger and places it delicately behind her ear. Imogen shifts in her seat. The majority of our high school was in some type of theater production for all three years. It was required for the first two years, and it was easiest to just continue with it. That meant that all seven of my classmates were in just about every theater production at the Sabathia School of the Arts. Most of us went to the same elementary school, Pennington Elementary.

"I like this one the best," she says. We all stand up and crowd around her to look at it. It's a picture of the us four girls on the last day of school last year. I like it, too. Not just because it's a picture of the last day I'll ever be in high school, but of the diversity of clothing. Diana, being the prima donna she is, is wearing a her favorite pink sundress and lots of jewelry; Cassandra, with her hair done up to look like two cupcakes, is wearing a white polo shirt and a lavender skirt with an old-fashioned apron; Imogen, her bright orange hair curled, and wearing a matching orange dress and white boots; and of course, me wearing jeans, and a black shirt. Nothing fancy, really, or at least not fancy compared to the others. I'm wearing a necklace and earrings, but that's really it.

"Oh Diana I love that dress on you," Imogen says. "Do you have any more of the boys, Cass?"

"Yeah let me just..." Cassandra scrolls through more pictures. "Here. When we took the class trip to that lake from the Sixty-Ninth Hunger Games." Yep. Since our class only had the nine of us, that the seven of us plus Caliban and Priam, we got to go on our own trip. "These are the ones that Hera took." Pictures of all of us. Without make up. It's really odd, actually. Cassandra with her natural short black hair streaming down the sides of her face and neck, Apollo without his lipstick, Diana without her face powder. Times like this are very, very, rare.

"Find one of these with Hera in it," Diana says, leaning onto Caius's chest. Cassandra chuckles and shakes her head. I always took the picture. I hate having my picture taken.

"I don't think I have any... wait," she stops at one where we're all jumping into the lake. It's a timed picture, and a pretty good one, too, because the nine of us are all jumping at the same time.

"You have to send that picture to me, and the two from tonight," Ceres says. All of us agree. It makes me so happy to be with my friends again. We sit down at a table which is strangely grouped with others in the middle of the street. I'm guessing, and hoping, that they blocked the road. Usually, on a normal day, this street would be crowded with cars and people trying not to get hit.

I don't know where the Capitol gets all this alcohol. I've never seen this many drunken people in my entire life. Especially this many people I know.

"Hey... you know if you tilt your head to the left and squint, Hera really looks like that District 1 girl. Except you know, she doesn't..." Ceres pokes my cheek and Imogen laughs. This is why I have no intention of drinking this heavily until I am old, alone, and depressed. I don't know what they were drinking when I turned my back. Whatever it was, they drank a lot of it.

"Come on, Apollo, let's get you home so you can't keep poisoning yourself," I help him up slowly. He stumbles over the first few steps, wretches a little bit, but we finally get out of the crowd of loud people.

* * *

><p>I don't drink, and Annie doesn't like talking about it so I was left to guess how drunk people act.<p>

I am really proud of this chapter. I must admit that I did not spend that much time on it though... so please tell me if it sucks.

I'm sorry if I don't post again for a while. School really does get in the way of everything,

Johanna


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

I'm never, ever, ever, going to let Apollo drink ever again. Ever.

"When I'm old an' married... I'm going to name my children Hannelore and Sven," Apollo's hand is slowly running down my back. I place it back on my shoulders and try to keep him from tipping over.

"Okay."

"Do you know what word I really like? Dipthong. Dipthong dipthong." I refuse to answer him. I just wish that we could some how teleport back to my house. I mean I'm carrying about two hundred pounds, that's my weight and whatever Apollo is setting on me, and it's really starting to make my feet and legs hurt. Especially in five inch heels. Why does the walk home from the City Circle have to be so damn long, anyways?

By the time we reach my house, I'm almost numb from the hips down. I let Apollo try to stand up straight by himself, but he ends up almost stumbling into a wall. Trying to get him upstairs to my room is even more eventful. After about ten fifteen minutes of talking him out of drinking any more, I get him to lay down on my bed.

"Hey Apollo, you're going to..." I turn around, and Apollo is asleep, "... Need to get... Oh screw it." I start to undress for bed, taking my hair out, folding up my shawl, taking off my dress and hanging it up in my closet. I'm so glad that Apollo's asleep, because if he saw me without a top on, he would never let me hear the end of it. When I'm dressed, I walk over to the sleeping man on my bed and look down at him. Apollo's a handsome guy, with or without his blue lipstick. I brush some of his brown hair off of his face and leave my bedroom.


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Happy Hunger Games, everyone. May the odds be with _them._

I slept on the couch last night, so the first thing I did after I woke up was went upstairs and got my glasses. This is the only time of the year I wear the horrid things. Thick, ugly black frames.

My parents have the first day of the Hunger Games off. Almost everyone in the Capitol does, except for the emergency room technicians, and even they have in playing while they work. Slightly dangerous for them to do that, but I'm not the boss. I turn on the television and I wait for the start of the games. It's close to seven o'clock, and they're not going to start to more around eight. I highly doubt that Apollo is up and awake, and even if he is, he's going to want to spend as much time in bed as he can. Which means, I'm going to steal some of Aemelia's spare clothing from her closet. Or, as I like to call it, clothes of one-night-stands past. There should be something in there should fit, or mostly fit Apollo's size.

Aemelia's room is on the ground floor, right down the hall from the kitchen. It's a nice room, large windows, the walls painted a light lavender color. It's big, but smaller than mine. Her closet is across the room from her bed. I look through it. Trousers in various colors, tee-shirts in matching colors, and a pair of blue jeans lie in a wicker box on the floor, buried under shoes and bags of hair products. What Aemelia could have done to make a man leave his pants behind is something I will never want to know. I pick out a powder blue shirt and some black pants and bring them up to my bedroom. As I predicted, Apollo is passed out on my bed. I've never expected any of my friends to get drunk like that before... I can't say that with a straight face. I knew it would end up like this eventually.

I leave his clothes by my bed and go back downstairs. My parent's shouldn't be up for another half hour, and I have no freaking idea where Aemelia is. Probably passed out at some random guy's house. That gives me the freedom to eat what I want where I want to. I whistle, and Prince comes trotting in happily. I pick him up and set him down on the counter along with a bowl of peanut butter and dog food. For me, a box of cereal is sufficient. While my dog eats away happily, I set up a sort of ramp/stair system made out of books and cereal boxes so he can get down on his own. It should be about time for the games to start. I look at the digital clock on the stove. Seven forty-five. I still have fifteen minutes to do... nothing. I could wake up Apollo... Nah. He probably has such a bad hangover that he'd punch me through the wall... But his pain would be totally priceless.

Yep. It's worth it.

I walk back upstairs, down the hall, and into my bedroom. Apollo is still on my bed. I feel evil doing this. I poke his stomach and slap his face. He mumbles something in his sleep. I start shaking his arm now.

"Mmm?" his eyes open, and he grimaces as the light enters his corneas. "Too early. Have headache," he closes his eyes and pushes me back a few steps.

"I bet you have a headache. Come. Hunger Games start in ten minutes." Apollo opens his eyes again and starts to get up. He grimaces again and I guide him downstairs. "I'll get you some water before the games start. Sit on the couch and try not to puke everywhere." He laughs weakly as we descend the stairs. He staggers into the den and I go into the kitchen to get some water. Prince happily finished his dinner and out doing whatever. I get two glasses of water and head into the den, where Apollo is leaning back with his eyes closed. I sit down next to him, hand him the water, and wait for the games to begin. For watching the games you have two channel choices: one with Claudius Templesmith and Caesar Flickerman and one without. Those two men are probably the most winsome men I know, but frankly they get really annoying after a while.

* * *

><p>Isn't being drunk basically just being poisoned and dehydrated?<p>

Two chapters again today, and I will probably start posting Monday, Wednesdays, and Fridays since school has slowed down TREMENDOUSLY. Hell, I might even post on Saturdays. I just really want to get these chapters out to all of you people!

Happy Thursday,

Johanna


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

I must admit, my tribute is pretty.

This is probably the most suspenseful time of my life. The one minute that the tributes are required to stand on the metal plates. Apollo is quietly sipping his water.

"Your leg is shaking," he says.

"Shhh..." Twenty seconds. Fifteen seconds. Ten seconds. Five seconds. And...

There goes the buzzer. And of course, my tribute starts a few seconds later. She sprints as fast as she can to get to the Cornucopia. The tribute lunges forward to pick up some bread, and then sprints another twenty yards to pick up a backpack. The tribute from District 9 grabbed onto the same backpack. The two tributes fight for a moment, but an object sticks the District 9 boy's back. He coughs, and blood splatters over my tributes face.

"Oh my god," Apollo covers his mouth with his hand. I giggle. Blood makes me giddy. Apollo turns to me with a look of horror. "You are a disgusting creature, Hera Mozelle Vasik. You are going to hell."

"You, Apollo Crius Gray, are a pussy. Watch the games." There are always a lot of bloody deaths the first day. All the tributes are getting to know the area and each other's fighting styles and choice weapons. The camera switches to the tributes who have been killed, which so far are the females from Districts 6 and 7 and the males from Districts 7.

"What do Districts Six and Seven produce?" I ask Apollo. He's looking a little less irritable and hungover.

"I think that Six is transportation and Seven is lumber. You think that someone who carries around and chops wood all day would have a better chance of survival," he takes another sip of his water and reclines on the couch. "I can understand transportation, though. The only thing they do there is assemble trains and cars... I think..."

After giving us a look at the pale, bloody, lifeless bodies, one of the cameras go to Apollo's tribute, Thresh. He's running through the woods. He seems to have grabbed some food. No weapons, but he looks strong enough to fight on his own. Another one changes to my tribute, running, and being startled by a rabbit. Wow. Some of the other tributes, including the District 12 male, seem to have made a sort of alliance with each other. Smart. The only thing I don't like about the Hunger Games is that it's kind of hard to focus on each of the tributes. You don't really know what's happening until the night or when there are about six tributes left. But, usually by then, the tribute I bet on is dead.

The cannons start to fire more around the afternoon. Most of the deaths were over at the Cornucopia. Eleven deaths in all. The Gamekeepers don't even bother to fire the cannons until the initial fighting is over, since it's so hard to keep track of everything. As it starts to get darker, the cameras goes back to the other tributes. My tribute is resting in the woods, Thresh is in a field of tall grass somewhere, and the other District 12 tribute is with the rest of the Career pack. The Career packs happen almost every game, but I've only seen it work well once.

Nothing really happens for the rest of the first day except for a small fight with the tributes in the Career pack. The person who seems to be the leader is the tribute from District 2. As night falls, my tribute settles herself in a sleeping bag that was kept in her ugly orange backpack. She's in a tree, which is smart, unless someone shoots her down or she falls.

By this time, Apollo is better, but still in his dressed clothes. During the break, he changes into the others and comes back down. Nothing of importance happens and I recline on the couch, Apollo is asleep on a chair, and like my tribute, I close my eyes and let my muscles relax...

I'm jolted awake by a blood curdling scream. Three members of the Career pack are beating another one of the tributes, and thoroughly enjoying it. Beating her, stabbing her.

"Twelve down, eleven to go!" Cato exclaims, which receives a round of praise and excitement from the other Career tributes. I look to my left, Apollo is watching with a horrified expression. Such a woman. When I look back to the television, the cameras are on my tribute, who happens to be situated within ten yards of the dying girl. I kind of feel bad for her. She was stabbed in the stomach, and stomach wounds are long, agonizing deaths. It must be horrifying for my tribute, having to watch/listen to this... Unless she's a really heavy sleeper, like Apollo. The Career pack members are arguing about the death of the tribute. Friggin' idiots. It takes a few hours to bleed out from a stomach wound. I roll my eyes. I know they can't hear me, but it makes me feel better. They argue about the death of the girl, until District 12 boy finally goes back and stabs the girl in the chest. Oh my. I seriously did not expect this. Well, Bread boy is much more dangerous than I thought he would be. Apollo is staring at the television in disbelief.

"Did he just..." he says, pointing at the picture.

"Eeyup," I say. I need a soda.


	13. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

It's been four days already. My tribute found a water source, was almost killed by fire, and puked. A lot.

Apollo really decided to go to design school. Before he left to apply, he told me that seeing District 12's clothing items restored hope in him. So, a slightly depressed Aemelia and I are the only ones at home. My maid always get sad when she stays at men's houses. She just sits on the couch next to me and watches the Games. After soaking her burns, the pack comes after her. Of course, she climbs up a tree. I kind of expected that.

"Aemelia I'm bored," I whine, purposely falling on her. She pushes me off.

"How can you be bored? These are the Hunger Games. Things you love. Violence, blood, and hot guys," she says. I chuckle. Idea, I could work on some of my artwork. I run upstairs to get my laptop off my bed, when I see Prince lying on my bed like an angel. So cute, I have to disturb him. Instead of taking my laptop downstairs, I scoop up Prince and bring him into the den. My tribute is holding a quiver of arrows above Glimmer's head, about eighty feet in the air.

"I'm going to take Prince for a walk. See you whenever," I say to her. She just nods. I slip on my trainers and clip Prince's leash to his collar. He loves going for walks around the Capitol, even though he's a pussy and gets scared by almost everything. He's a good dog. We turn left at the end of the pathway and start walking. Prince is trying to run ahead of me, but his leash won't let him. We walk past Apollo's house, then Caliban and Priam's until we reach the cul-de-sac. I stretch my back, making it pop, and take a deep breath. I click to Prince as I would click to one of my horses and we both start to run. We run faster and faster until we reach my house again. The air is crisp. Not too summery yet. Perfect spring air. Prince trots happily beside me as we walk past the house and toward the financial district. The financial districts are located in the center of the Capitol, with the residential districts on the outer parts of the financial area. That's where all of the shopping malls, banks, restaurants, hotels- you name it, are located. No one really knows where all of the arenas are located, though. The arenas with the more famous victors seems to be located within a traveling distance, like the one with a giant lake. That's the one with the lake where we took our senior ditch day. I pull Prince back from trying to attack a small branch. Surprisingly, there are a lot of people out and about today. Four days into the Hunger Games and people are already starting to get bored. Seneca Crane, you need to start stepping it up.

"So, almost doctor Vasik, my brother is complaining of a massive headache. What do you recommend?" Caliban says from behind me. I smile and shake my head, turning around to look at him. He and Priam are twins. Shoulder length light brown hair, and the most beautiful blue eyes I've ever seen. They both have tattoos of their late sister's name and her birthdate on their forearms, which I can see clearly today. I walk over to Caliban and hug him. Prince barks a greeting, too.

"Get him some ibuprofen. Tell him to get his ass of the couch and get some exercise. He's probably burned his corneas from staring at the Games for all this time," I say. He puts his arm around my shoulder, and wrap my arm around his waist. Caliban's the closet thing I've had to a real boyfriend without having romantic interest. I don't know why, but we are very touchy to each other. Not in a perverted way, though. Just like a lot of hugging.

"So what are you doing out on this fine day?" he asks me as we walk toward the drug store.

"I'm just taking Prince out for a walk. Apollo and Aemelia are watching the Hunger Games. Of course, Aemelia _should_ be making lunch by now..." I check my mobile phone for the time. Caliban laughs. Their maid always at the top of her game. But I guess Aemelia is more like family to us. She gets more slack. We enter the store, and I pick out the medicine for Priam for him.

"You want to get some lunch?" Caliban asks me. I nod my head as a reply. There are a lot of nice places to eat in this part of the Capitol, and Aemelia is probably not cooking because she's lazy and wants to watch the Hunger Games. Fine with Apollo, but I need to eat about every three-and-a-half hours, and it's been that long since the last time I've eaten. I'm starving. So, Caliban and I walk to this place called Patchett's. It's a smaller restaurant, but it's still good. The server sits at a table outside so Prince can be in the fresh air. He also hands us two menus. "Are you still not eating meat?" he asks me. I roll my eyes.

"I gave that up a while ago, don't worry," we both smile. Apollo and Caliban are seriously like my two best friends. There is no other people who I feel more comfortable with. I let Caliban order for me. He knows what I like eating. And just as I thought, my lunch is delicious. Baked pheasant over white rice with different sauces. One of my favorites. Caliban ordered lamb stew with the dried plums. It has gotten quite popular since my tribute's interview a few days ago. We sit quietly for the first few minutes, enjoying our meal. "So how will you be spending the first week of summer this year?" I have a feeling I know how his family's going to spend it. Just about everyone in the Capitol uses the first week of summer for traveling and vacation because the weather is so nice. They even make it an event in some parts of it.

"I think Priam and I are going to go visit Sybell," the name he has on his arm, "But my parents are going off to Haymitch Abernathy's arena."

"Well, I'll probably spend it being tortured by Apollo." We both laugh. Let me give you some background of Sybell. Daughter of Peacekeepers Jachimo and Duffy Tennant, and sister of Priam and Caliban Tennant. She was a very nice girl. Beautiful auburn hair, and the same eyes as her brothers. She died from one of the very last cases of Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease. I remember that her sickness was one of the hardest times of Priam and Caliban's life. That was when we were in the eighth grade. Sybell was my little cousin Aida's classmate. I believe she was eight when she passed.

"I'll pray for you," He says, taking a drink of water. Prince rubs up against my leg and lays down on my feet. We converse some more before we pay and leave. He takes Priam's bag of medicine and walks me back to my house. I hug him goodbye and walk back into my house, where, of course, Apollo and Aemelia are still sitting with their eyes glued to the television. I let Prince off his leash and he runs up the stairs to probably his usual sleeping spot on my bed.

"Take off your shoes, Hera. I don't want you to get the floors all dirty," Aemelia says without looking at me. That woman...

* * *

><p>Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease is very serious. It is the degeneration of the nervous system. It literally only affects one in a million.<p>

On a brighter note, I'm going to be posting A LOT this week because I want to get to Catching Fire already!

Anyway, being the aspiring novelist I am, Annie and I are starting a new project. Not fanfiction, but like a real book.

Kthnxbai,

Johanna


	14. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Aemelia often makes fun of my lisp.

I wake up to the sound of two sobbing people. As I expected, Apollo and Aemelia are crying over the death of Rue, and the touching funeral my tribute gave her. Jesus, I leave the room for ten hours and it comes to this. Two sleep deprived, hopelessly romantic people sobbing over the death of a girl they didn't know. Yes, I know deaths are sad, and they've become attached to the tribute, but crying so loud that it woke me up? Really?

I rejoin my two companions as they watch the games.

"You should have seen it, Hera," Apollo says in between sobs, "The Cato guy snapped the pale boy's neck."

"It was r-really g-gruesome. Your tribute k-killed the District 1 t-tribute too," Aemelia was drying her eyes with tissue. The two look at each other and start bawling. I roll my eyes.

"You two are ridiculous," I say, leaning on the side of the couch. That makes the two start crying even harder. Why do I even try?

"W-we know," Apollo says wiping tears off his cheek. My tribute seems to be the one being broadcast the most. Interesting. She must be the most violent. I slept through most of the day already, so all that's really left is the anthem.

"I'm going to bed. I have to get back to work tomorrow," Aemelia says. She walks out of the room.

Aemelia's cleaning today. Not really much to clean, since we've been camped out in the den for the past week. Today's been pretty uneventful. My tribute is getting over Rue's death, Thresh found himself some food, the redheaded tribute was almost killed by Alpha Male, and Bread Boy seems ill.

"Have you eaten anything?" I ask Apollo. He shakes his head. "I'll make you food." He's really into these games. Usually he doesn't really like watching them, since he hates the sight of blood. It's hard for me to sit still for prolonged periods of time. My parents probably had some sort of meat for dinner, since it's Wednesday... or at least I think it's Wednesday. I don't find anything by looking around, and I don't want to make anything, so I just pull things out of cupboards and bring them to the den. Apollo and I sit on the couch and eat our meal. My tribute is resting in a tree, Bread Boy is sitting somewhere by himself, Alpha Male is pacing angrily, Thresh is waiting in the wheat field, and two other girls are eating. The anthem plays, and there are no deaths today, but after the anthem today, the head Gamemaker Claudius Templesmith calls out a rule change.

"What rules?"

"Shut up Apollo."

New rule: There will be two victors this year instead of just one, unless the two last ones are from different Districts. Interesting.

"They did this on purpose," I say. Apollo looks at me.

"What do you mean?"

"My tribute and Bread Boy are the star-crossed lovers, remember? The Gamemakers are trying to appeal to the members of the audience who want them to have fairy-tale ending." Apollo shakes his head and leans back on the couch.

"Oh screw this. I'm going to sleep," he says, laying back on the couch. I also lay back and close my eyes. Not because I'm sleep deprived like Apollo, but because I can already tell that this is going to be a dramatic Hunger Games.

* * *

><p>Aren't Apollo and Aemelia lovely?<p> 


	15. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

I had to do some paperwork and tests for school, so I miss most of the next few days.

It's not my fault, really. The university wanted to know what I've done and if I'd been arrested, and they tested my ability to work under pressure. I have never seen so much fake blood and so many fake body parts in my life.

While I was testing and being exhausted, my tribute and Bread Boy have met, and he's pretty sick. Blood poisoning in his legs. They've started kissing like they're a couple, which is earning them more air time.

I know they're not trained to do this, but my tribute's medical abilities are pissing me off. Quite a bit. This is why I can't watch medical dramas. They make me irritable. Bread Boy is still sick. My tribute's salves aren't strong enough. They're going to need some pretty strong medicine to fix that leg up.

The trumpets that signal the speaking of Claudius Templesmith rings out, grabbing both Apollo's and my attention immediately. Another rule change? Nope. A feast. Bread Boy doesn't want my tribute to go to the feast. The argue, come to a compromise, and it ends up in my tribute drugging Bread Boy.

"They're acting like my parents," Apollo mumbles. He looks at me. It's true, actually. One reason Apollo is always at my house is because his parents fight so much. He's not the only one. His oldest sister and her husband take care of the younger siblings when their parents aren't home. Awkward silence. Time for subject change.

"I wonder if my tribute has someone at home that she has feelings for," I say. Apollo turns his confused gaze toward me.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, when Bread Boy professed his love to her, she didn't look too happy about it."

"She doesn't seem to look to happy about anything." We both laugh. What? It's true.

"Sure as hell she's not gonna be happy after this night. It looks like it's freezing there."

"But, Bread Boy has a fever and she's sleeping with him," he thinks about his last comment for a second, "Not like that. I didn't mean it like that."

"I'm going to make some coffee..." I get up to leave. I don't know how long Apollo's been awake. Once the coffee's made, I head back to the den. Other tributes are waiting in the freezing cold for the feast.

Apollo nodded off about four hours ago. I shake his arm violently to wake him up. He jolts awake and instantly focuses on the television.

This is definitely going to be a brawl. Four bags sitting on a picnic table. Four tributes ready to strike at any time. The redheaded girl sprints to get her bag, but none of the other tributes dare to attack her. Suddenly, my tribute deflects a knife thrown by the girl named Clove. She draws her bow and sends an arrow flying toward the other tribute, which would have killed her if she hadn't moved. The arrow slowed her down, giving my tribute a head start toward the picnic tables. The caffeine from my coffee is making my leg shake. My tribute picks up the backpack, and as she turns around, one of Clove's knives cuts her across the forehead. She still manages to send an arrow flying in Clove's direction, but it misses, and Clove slams into my tribute, knocking her flat on her back. Taunting goes on. Apollo is staring blankly at the screen. Probably because of the girls. Such a opens up her jacket to reveal a collection of various knives of different shapes and sizes.

"She could be a stripper."

"Shut. Up." Clove picks a small, wickedly curved knife and starts teasingly tracing the edge of my tribute's mouth while she tries to somehow push Clove off.

"I promised Cato if he let me have you, I'd give the audience a good show." My tribute tries to upset Clove, but fails, "Forget it, District Twelve. We're going to kill you. Just like we did you pathetic little ally... what was her name? The one who hopped around in trees? Rue?"

"She was sooo cute," the man next to me whines. My tribute spits a mouthful of saliva and blood at Clove's face after some more taunting about Peeta from Clove.

"That was ladylike," Apollo mumbles. Clove says, making the first cut on my tribute's face. Apollo's hand goes to his mouth. Thresh comes up behind Clove and yanks her off my tribute and holds her hostage in his arms.

"Jesus Christ he's massive," I say. Seriously. He's looks like he'd be at least six inches taller than Apollo and weigh about fifty pounds more. Good job, Thresh. Make 11 proud. Thresh strikes Clove with the rock in the temple. He didn't break her skull, but with that kind of hit she's a goner. He then turns to my tribute.

"Looks like your tribute and mine have started to become friendly," Apollo mumbles.

"Might come in handy later," I reply. Our attention turns back to the screen.

"Clove," Alpha Male says, his voice full of pain. My tribute and Thresh both look at him.

"You better run now, Fire Girl," Thresh says. My tribute flips over and bolts into the woods. Thresh calmly picks up Alpha Male's bag. Alpha Male is too busy mourning over his dying girlfriend to care. For once, he is actually speechless. Spear in hand and tears in eyes. Thresh sprints into the woods with both his backpack and Alpha Male's. A tear runs down Alpha Male's face and onto the barely moving chest of Clove. Another minute of silence passes, Clove lets out her last breath and the cannon fires. Alpha Male freezes in his position, but reluctantly stands and jogs back into the woods after a few moments.

Scene changes to my tribute, running through the forest, trying to stop the bleeding from her forehead. Once she reaches the cave, she immediately opens her backpack and pulls out the slim box holding the syringe. She jabs the needle into Bread Boy's arm and passes out.

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><p>Don't forget to check my profile every once in a while. I'll be adding more links to character pictures.<p> 


	16. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

229 days until my birthday.

Apollo and I have to run errands today. He's too tired to worry about my fashion sense today. First stop: His house to get his clothes. Aemelia is tired of me raiding her box of boyfriend clothing. It's her own fault.

Apollo doesn't live that far away from me. His house is only like half a mile away. When we reach his house twenty minutes later, we find out that his house is empty, and a suitcase with his clothes is lying close to the door, along with a note from his brother, Anchises. Anchises is a nice guy. His wife is nice, too. She makes cookies when Apollo and I visit.

Next stop: groceries. As of the day before yesterday evening, we are officially out of real food. Aemelia usually goes to buy the groceries, since that's one of her jobs, but she was too busy watching the Hunger Games. We have to drive to the store. I'm not in the mood to walk fifteen miles just to get some crackers and peanut butter. Seriously. It's not worth it. We use Anchises' old car, since he doesn't drive it anymore and always leaves his keys in his parents' house. I don't have a car for two reason: one, I would be the most aggressive driver anyone has ever seen, and I would probably freak out and crash into something.

I open the door to the black convertible while Apollo puts his stuff in the back. I can drive, I just don't like to. To much work, and it makes me more anxious than I already am. But, on the other hand, Apollo is an insane driver. Our car rides are maddening.

"Slow down. We're nearing a light," I say nervously. I'm gripping the arms rests as hard as I can without breaking my fingers.

"Calm down. The bastard behind me would crash if I did that. He's close enough to touch me," he says through clenched teeth. I look through the rear view window. Red car. Young male driver, a few years older than Aemelia. Late twenties, early thirties. Angry bastard, too. He's clenching the wheel as hard as I'm clenching the arm rests, with teeth bared.

"Stop. Stop stop stop stop stop stop." I curl up in the passenger's seat, hands still locked on the rests. We're rapidly approaching the red light.

"Oh shut up. I'm going to make it," Apollo mutters.

"No you're not. Slow down," my voice cracks. Apollo speeds up a little bit. The light shouldn't turn green, but it does. Just in time for my friend to cross. I let out a sigh of relief. Apollo's grumbling about how the cars around him are driving and I pretend to listen like I do every time he goes on rants. This one, for some reason, is going on for a lot longer than his other ones. I just nod my head when he glances in my direction and think about something else. It takes another ten minutes of nerve-wracking, but the two of us reach the grocery store in one piece.

"So, what do we need," Apollo says, retrieving a cart before entering. I take my mobile phone out of my pocket and search for the list.

"A bag of tangerines, three boxes of saltine crackers, one pound of beef, milk, peanut butter, six apples, cereal, and oatmeal," I say. I love tangerines.

"Okay... let's get the tangerines first," Apollo says, directing me and the cart over to the produce. I really love tangerines. I grab the bag of tangerines and the apples, then my phone starts ringing. Apollo takes my phone out of my hand and answers it.

"Hera Vasik's phone this is Apollo Gray speaking," he says. I roll my eyes and try to take the phone from him. He pushes me away. Why do his arms have to be so long? "Yes. Yes... wait, no. Really? I'd love to. Sure. Let me ask," he puts the phone on mute, "Adriana wants to know if you are willing to come out of retirement and do a competition dance number."

"How about no..." I say, examining the apples, "Give me the phone."

"In a minute. Adriana? Yeah she said... Well- No it's not- No, no. She'd love to." my eyes widen in horror and Apollo mouths the word sorry to me, "Yeah okay. See you in two weeks. Bye," he hangs up the phone and gives it back to me, smiling apologetically.

"I hate you," I say.

"I know," he says, pushing the cart over to the dry goods.

"Are you my partner?" I turn to my happily guilty friend. He just smiles. The only reason we're paired together is because of skill level. I would much rather dance with someone who is closer to my height, "What song are we doing?"

"That is to be announced. And also, we are going to be used as an example for the new dancers." Just great. We get the rest of the groceries, purchase them, and drive back to my house, where we find Aemelia sitting on the couch waiting for us.

"Thresh died," she wails from behind a slightly tear-dampened tissue. Apollo and I sit on the couch with our food and watch the games like normal Capitol residents.

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><p>Rate and review please. I just want to post the rest of these god damned chapters so I can get to the exciting stuff I wrote earlier.<p>

Well, you learned something about Hera. She hates dancing.


	17. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

I'm only slightly neurotic.

Red tribute and the two from District 12 are also alive, so Apollo's and my fifty dollars are still in. Bread Boy can't walk quietly to save his life, Red is the exact opposite, and Cato has pretty much gone bat shit crazy since Clove was killed. Wheeeee.

My tribute and Bread Boy fight like an old married couple, or Apollo's parents. Understandable, though. Bread Boy left the area where he was supposed to be, and my tribute got nervous. Red did steal some of the berries though, sneaky bitch. Suddenly, the cannon fires and Red's body is lifted out of the woods. Apollo groans. He just lost fifty dollars. Wait... Bread Boy collected poison berries. He unintentionally killed Red. Good for him. Only three tributes left.

Aemelia is finally doing her job and making Apollo and me food. I love Aemelia to death but sometimes I think she's be a much better kiss-o-gram or prostitute or something. My parents both decide to watch the games today, since they both have the day off. My mom, with her dyed platinum blonde hair and my dad with his natural light brown, sitting on either side of me and Apollo sitting in a reclining chair. I look much more like my dad, but I have my mom's coloring.

"I'm telling you, Corinna, the two from District 12 are right. The Gamemakers are sending them toward the pond to fight it out," my dad says to my mother. Here we go.

"No Rowan, they're going to end up at the Cornucopia," my mother retorts. Mommy should know best.

"They've dried out all the nearby water sources for all three tributes. Pond."

"Cornucopia." Silence from my parents. My tribute and Bread Boy head over to the pond, followed by an angry exhale from my mother and a smug grin from dad. My tribute sings Rue's four note, which is copied my the mockingjays perching in the trees by the pond. The song is cut short my Alpha Male, racing toward the two. They both raise their weapons to attack, which merely bounce off his body. Armor. Awesome. But, Alpha Male runs right past the two, and as the tribute see what was coming, they run too. Giant wolf type muttations are bounding toward the three. Alpha Male and my tribute take off quickly, but Bread Boy can only move so fast on a healing leg. The head toward the Cornucopia, and eventually all make it. Alpha Male is almost sick from running and my tribute is freaking out because the muttations look like the old tributes, and are most likely made out of parts of the old tributes. One of the muttations grabs onto Bread Boy's leg and starts to drag him off the Cornucopia. Sound ranging from sickness to horror ring throughout out den, and even in the hallway from Aemelia. Bread Boy stabs the mutt on the side on the neck, and slackens the grip on his leg and eventually falls to the ground. Once Bread Boy is safely on the Cornucopia, my tribute shoots the mutt which is obviously Thresh, because of his ability to jump so high and the coloring of the muttation. Alpha Male has Bread Boy in a headlock. They're at a stalemate.

"Peeta is going to die first," my dad says. We all sit back quietly and watch Bread Boy draw and X on Alpha Male's hand. My tribute shoots another arrow into Alpha Male's hand, causing him to release Bread Boy. In turn, Bread Boy knocks Alpha Male off the Cornucopia, causing him to fall into the hands, or in this case paws, of the mutts.

"Ha. He's dead," my dad says.

"He's not dead yet," my mother says. I roll my eyes.

"He'll be dead within a few hours."

"I don't know. Peeta seems to be pretty much bled out," I say.

Bread Boy does look pretty bad. My tribute tries her hardest to tie a tourniquet around his leg, which pissed my dad off to the point of he and my mother leaving the room, leaving Apollo and me alone. "If he wins I swear we're going to have to cut his leg off," I hear my father say from the kitchen. I roll my eyes and shake my head. That's what my dad does for a living. Cutting people open and sewing them back together.

"Have fun watching my tribute and Bread Boy sleep. I'm going to take a shower," I say, leaving Apollo to do whatever Apollos do.

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><p>Filler. Sorry about this chapter.<p> 


	18. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

My wrist hurts.

After a long, overly dramatic almost suicide, there are in fact two victors of the Seventy-Fourth Hunger Games. I won two hundred dollars. Life is good for me.

"We're meeting Cal and Priam at the Social Tower. Congratulations, Hera," Apollo says to me after the hovercraft takes my tribute and Bread Boy out of the arena. He smiles wickedly, "Which means we're going out. Which means..." my eyes widen in horror.

"No!" I take off running out of the room, with Apollo close behind me. I run upstairs, and before I can get to any of the rooms and lock myself in, Apollo grabs me around the waist and carries me to my bedroom while I thrash in a vain attempt to get free. Seriously, why did I even try?

"Did you forget that I'm taller _and_ stronger than you?" he asks me. I shake my head and sit down on my bed while he digs through my closet, muttering about color choices. Red, blue, or shimmery. After a few more minutes, he decides on a feathery red dress. It's nice, actually. I kind of remember Aemelia wearing this dress, which is weird because she never lets me wear her clothing... or touch it.

"That one's nice," I say, standing up to examine the dress more closely. It's nicer than I remember, kind of glittery, soft, comfortable feeling. I actually like this one. Apollo leaves the room while I dress. I assume that Aemelia is going to torture me by straightening, recurling, and pinning my hair back at strange angles, which will take forever. I walk down the stairs to the dining area to eat, and then are dragged into Aemelia's bathroom to have my hair done.

I have to say, I look good. My hair is done up neatly, which took _at least_ and hour, and my dress is nicely pressed and clean. I feel happy. And feminine. I say good bye to Aemelia and Prince and Apollo pulls me out of the house like a hyper maniac. We have to walk, again, to the Social Tower, which does not take _that_ long, but it difficult because there are so many people there to collect the money from the bets. Apollo, being the massive person he is, is able to push us through to where Priam and Caliban were waiting, like they were two weeks ago, except Priam has a kind of defeated, almost vengeful look on his face.

"Congrats Hera," he says as we sit down. Caliban sits down quietly, because he is an overall quiet person. Unlike his kind brother, Priam is rebellious, vain, and cynical. He and Caliban kind of cancel each other out, like those good-cop / bad-cop situations you used to find on the television a long time ago. And since they're brothers, they never leave each other's sides. We sit in silence while Priam angrily drinks something, presumably alcoholic, and wait for the attendant to give me my prize. Priam has only won once out of the six years we've been doing this, so I'm not quite sure why he's always so moody about losing. After a few minutes of watching Priam become intoxicated, the attendant finally arrives with my money, making Priam grumble a little bit. The two other boys congratulate me like normal people. We walk out of the noisy, crowded building.

* * *

><p>I use the three lag days to catch up on studying for my medical exams. Apollo uses this time to visit his siblings, who live on the other side of the Capitol. I'm actually quite glad that period is over. I want to know if Peeta made it back in one piece. My dad is one of the surgeons who takes care of the tributes after the games, but he never lets me or anyone else know what happens to the tributes and their body parts. That's how my parents met. During a Hunger Games. I decide to get dressed on my own again, except for the henna. I'm not in the mood to spend two hours drawing on myself. Besides, you can still kind of see the marks it left from the last time I did it. Since I haven't really left my bedroom in three days, so there are clothes that I have taken out of my closet to play with when my brain was short circuiting from studying so long. I still like what I picked out a few days ago, so that's what I wear today. Noting overly strange, but still classy. It's the dress I wore to my senior formal. Long dress, high neckline, and according to Cassandra, it's the color of Finnick Odair's eyes. She can be kind of creepy sometimes. I get dressed, and as I start to walk to my bathroom to do my hair, Aemelia grabs me by the arm and tells me the be quiet. I nod, confused, but I follow her down stairs to the kitchen where my mother is talking in a hushed voice to one of her friends from her mobile phone.<p>

"I'm serious, Hermia! You should have seen President Snow. He and Crane were just _fuming_ at the staff meeting. You could just _see_ the hatred flowing off them," my mother says to someone over the phone. Hermia? The only Hermia I know has been missing for a few years now. My mother laughs. "Tell me about it. I don't know _what _those tributes were thinking! I'm not so sure that I like the idea, either." Aemelia leans in closer to the wall. "Oh god. Well, yeah, I have to go now, I'm going to meet Rowan at the hospital and go to the ceremony. Say hi to the family for me. Okay now, bye-bye." My mother hangs up her mobile phone. I decide to walk into the kitchen after, even though Aemelia tries to claw me back into the hall way.

"Who're you talking to?" I say casually to my mother.

"Oh just another woman from work," she says.

"Do I know her?"

"No."

"You weren't talking to Hermia Gaumond, were you?"

"Oh no, no," she says without changing her tone, "Hermia Gaumond and her family have been gone for a while. Five years, I think. You were in the eighth grade." Hn. Seems legit.

Quintus and Hermia Gaumond were some of my parents' closest friends. Quintus and my father used to work in the same practice, and Hermia graduated in the same class as my mom. They had two sons, Ross and Gray. Ross would have been in his mid twenties by now, and Gray would have been seventeen. Gray used to be in my class. He was never into acting like the rest of us, though. He always preferred setting things on fire and doing sports like his brother. I never knew Ross that well. None of the girls did, actually. The guys did, though. Mostly because Ross was always assistant coach of the boys teams. The one time I did meet him he seemed really nice. Anyway, the Gaumond family was always stayed out of trouble, so I'm not sure why the four of them disappeared all of a sudden. My parents told me it was none of my business, but sometimes you can't help but wonder.

Aemelia finishes my hair about half an hour before Apollo comes home. My mother left an hour before that, and after she left Aemelia started whining about this guy named Troy she met at the celebration before the Games and how she wondered if she'd see him again. Boys, shoes, and the Hunger Games are basically all she ever talks about. That's why I'm so glad when Apollo stays with us, because he can stand listening to her while she talks.

"Hera," Apollo whines as he walks through the kitchen from the garage, "There's something wrong with my car. Go fix it."

"I'm kind of dressed and ready to go," I say. He's dressed to go, I think. He looks me over and nods.

"That color's nice on you."

"Thanks."

"Let's go," he turns on his heels and walks toward the front door. Apollo and I walk everywhere, if you haven't noticed already. Not that big of a deal. It's not like there are a lot of hills on this side of town. Walking never takes too long, and I've been doing it so long my feet are calloused. Walking a few miles doesn't take any more than an hour and a half by now. So, we go back to the already kind of crowded City Circle. I brace myself for another Cassandra attack. We walk no more than ten feet into the area when Cassandra takes me down from my port flank.

"Ohmigodhera! Ohmigod you look so pretty!" she grabs my arm and takes off, and I hurriedly grab Apollo's. Knowing the rate Cass walks at, he'd be lost within the first few seconds of our departure. Cassandra stops dragging me along when we reach our class. Everyone is here this time. Ceres, Caius, Priam, Imogen, Cassandra, Caliban, and Diana. It's good to be like this again. This time there are chairs set out, and I sit down next to Caliban. We exchange smiles and wait for the ceremony to begin. He takes an antique pocket watch out of his pocket and shows me the time. Six forty-four. Six forty-five. Ceremony begins in fifteen minutes. I look up. Priam and Apollo are arguing about something while Caius and Ceres listen. Diana is telling Imogen and Cassandra about how cute Caius looks in his strange little emerald green suit.

"Soo... read any good books lately?" Cal asks me. I shrug.

"I read President Snow's book,and I read this book I found in a box of my grandmother's old things, I think it's called _A Discovery of Witches_," I say nonchalantly. Cal chuckles. "What?"

"You're still convinced that you've descended from witches?" he asks, amused. I lean back in my chair.

"Why shouldn't I be? I have a really strange connection with animals and small children, and how else do you explain all of the books and amulets in my grandmother's chest?"

"Hera you are completely insane."

"Yep." We both laugh. Suddenly, the anthem plays. I jump and Caliban's brow furrows. He picks up his watch and shakes it. "Your watch is slow," I say over the crowd. He nods and tries to listen to see if his watch is ticking, which is no use now. Caesar Flickerman is already talking away about the two tributes and their chances and shit. He introduces the prep teams, the crowd applauds, the oh so very pink Effie Trinket is introduced with another deafening applause, and then the two stylists, who receive the most applause. No wonder. Next comes Haymitch Abernathy. I swear he scares me a little bit. He kind of reminds me of a child molester. Now it's time for the tributes. This should be interesting. It's more than two weeks since they've been clean and civilized. Deafening roar that hurts my ears and my whole body. My tribute and Bread Boy. Of course, they kiss for an insane amount of time, which just makes the crowd cheer more. I clench my teeth and cover my ears with my hands. Caliban chuckles and pats me on the shoulder. Loud noises aggravate me.

Bread Boy really is something. When Caesar comes to break them up, he good naturedly pushes him away, earning him another round of cheers, mostly from the females in the audience. Haymitch finally breaks up the couple, and they sit on the love seat that replaces the ornate chair that the tribute usually sits on. Sorry, on which the tribute usually sits. Now it's time for the highlights of the Games. This is my favorite part of the final ceremony, because I get to let my mind wander. Y'all ready for this? Here we go.

I hope Adriana is the choreographer for the dance number I was forced into. She can dance really well. Oh crap, I forgot to feed Prince before we left. I guess Aemelia will have to do that. No, Aemelia's here. I need to start leaving sticky notes on the doors. I need to finish that gaming console. I wonder what would happen if we set off a rocket and then shot it with something. That would be really cool to try with cola and Mentos. Yeah, Mentos are pretty old fashioned, aren't they? I think so. I don't really like them that much. They make my teeth hurt. So does caramel. But I like caramel. I need to stop by Cassandra's parents' store. They sell really good candy. I totally forgot what Cassandra's hair looks like today. Is that Flavius guy Imogen's cousin? No, that's not right. Then he'd be related to Seneca Crane, too. No, not necessarily. Seneca could be on the other parent's side. Yeah. I wonder what my tribute did in the training area that made the gamekeepers like her so much. Probably shot one of them or something. My mom says that gamekeepers are real assholes. I wonder when I'll get my call for my job. I think it's supposed to be some time next week. Oh yeah, she has her birdcage wig on today. Good thing she didn't put birds in it this time. Cassandra's not the smartest crayon in the box. I need to get more crayons. They're fun to melt with blow dryers.

Caliban taps my shoulder softly. I jolt out of my think space. "What happened? I completely zoned out."

"Nothing much. Snow's bringing out the crown now."

"Ah." The ever-whitening President Snow rises from the platform, followed by a cute little girl carrying a crown. I think she's a relative of a Gamekeeper. I remember seeing her somewhere... Wait. _A _crown? A as in _singular_? There is a sound of confusion from the crowd. Snow gives the crown a sharp twist and it separates into two. Well played, Snow. Well played.

The first crown goes on Bread Boy's head, the other goes on my tribute. My tribute looks kind of shocked, but in a good way. The two bow, and it seems like all of the crowd stands up to cheer them. Caliban gives me an awkward side hug, and the other classmates congratulate me for winning the bet.

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><p>Lots of words. Almost done with part 1. Rate and review so I know people are actually reading this!<p>

~Johanna


	19. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Being near windows at night freaks me out.

My parents got pictures with the two victors when they were at the banquet. And apparently my dad amputated Bread Boy's leg and now he has a prosthetic. It's a nicely made one, too. Probably got my dad's department a shit load of money.

I have to get my baby ready to get shots today. And by baby I mean Half-Note. That means I have to get her all clean, which is not an easy task for her. I don't know _why_, but even saying the word water will cause her ears to pin back. This will probably take most of the morning. And I was really hoping that I could relax today...

* * *

><p>It took a few hours, but I got Half-Note all clean and healthy. But me, I'm covered in mud. I need a shower. I close the door to the tack room and walk back to my house. I love showers. Water in general, really. I take off my shoes and walk into my house. Apollo is still sleeping, like a normal teenage boy. Once I get upstairs, I go into my bathroom and turn on the water. My hands are so dirty that when they touch the water, it turns black. I scoff and peel out of my muddy shirt and jeans. Even part of my hair is covered in dust. But, the water is a nice temperature. I get in the shower and my hands immediately find the keypad that controls it. What should it be today? Hm. I close my eyes and press a number and am promptly covered in a thick rose scented foam. I sigh. This and the lemony-smelling stuff are my least favorite settings. One, they make you smell like flowers or lemons, and two, it takes <em>forever <em>to get off. It regenerates its self, or something. So, I spend at least half an hour scrubbing m skin to get the foam off. But, on the bright side, it makes your skin really soft and clean. I also don't really have to wash my hair now. The foam already did that for me.

Yay for showers. I'm all clean and ready to go into public. Well, after I get dressed anyway. Because I'm lazy, I just dress back in my pajamas. I don't have a single plan for today. The Hunger Games ended yesterday, and I really don't want any more commotion for another year, or at least until I start my job. I yawn, and go into my "lair". My lair is a room in the basement of our house that is filled with soldering equipment and pieces of old games and wires. I crack my knuckles and start soldering.

I don't really know how long I've been soldering for, mostly because this room doesn't have any windows. I don't really realize I how long I am in that room for until Aemelia comes in and tells me that dinner is ready. I stand up, and my back is completely stiff. It pops when I stretch.

Aemelia made stuffed peppers. My parents make polite conversation with Apollo and me. My dad tells me about the banquet and shoes me the picture of him and my mom with the two victors. I don't know why, but when I look at that picture, my sixth sense acts up and tells me that something isn't right.

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><p>FINALLY DONE. I'm going to post every day this week.<p>

~Johanna


	20. Part 2, Chapter 1

Chapter 1, Book 2

I wake up in the morning feeling like... going back to bed. That's most mornings, actually.

It's been really hot for early June. Good day for a car ride. I have a nice car, too. A black Mordox, and the best part is that I built most of its innards.

Thankfully, it's so hot outside that I don't I have to wait long for the engine to warm up. I'm in no mood to have my dad yell at me this early in the morning. It doesn't take that long to get there, and I only almost crashed once. Fifteen minutes maybe? New record.

Once I arrive, I realize that today is gonna suck. My dad wants me to examine at patients and prescribe medicine. For eight hours a day. And then, tonight, I'm on call in the emergency room. I'm probably going to start sprouting grey hairs by the time I'm nineteen. I sure as hell hope that my career doesn't turn out like the ones on those sappy medical dramas. God those make my sick.

First patient ever: Basem Maddox. Came here because of swelling in the armpit. I haven't even seen him, but I'm pretty sure it's only an ingrown hair and he's freaking out about it. But, I have to see him anyway. Sigh. It's not like I have anything else to do.

"Hello mister Maddox," I say to the patient, "I'm doctor Vasik and I will be your physician today. What seems to be the problem?"

"Well," he says. He has an arrogant voice, "I was working out a few days ago and I noticed this lump under my arm," he takes off his shirt and throws it on the floor. I have no choice but to examine him. Thankfully, the bastard is completely hairless. After prodding it and asking some more questions, I send him and his shirt down to the laboratory. Today shouldn't be so bad after all. Unless my next patient is a human carpet. I shudder.

* * *

><p>Good news: I didn't have any human carpet patients. Bad news, Maddox has breast cancer. So, now I have to <em>call<em> the guy instead of telling him in person because some stupid other doctor discharged him before the autopsy came back. I have to call a grown man and tell him he has breast cancer. And it's pretty far along, too. I hate life.

I finally get the nerve to call. Sitting at the table in the break room. After eating like six energy bars and drinking half a pot of coffee. The phone rings about four times before he answers.

"Hello?"

"Mister Maddox? This is Hera Vasik," I say, praying to all that my voice doesn't crack.

"Yeah? Have the results of my biopsy come back yet?"

"Yes, but I'm afraid I have some bad news, I think it would be best if you came in t-"

"If it's bad you should just tell me now." I don't want to do this.

"Well," I hesitate, "Mister Maddox, I'm afraid you have... breast cancer." Silence from the other end of the line.

"... I have _breast _cancer?"

"Sir, this is why I wanted you to come in, there are a lot of treatment options... and I'm going to have to transfer to a great doctor named Zealand Stotch for a second opinion," This is getting incredibly awkward, "And then, depending on what doctor Stotch says, your options will probably be some sort of radiation therapy. Are you still with me?"

"Yeah."

"Do you have any questions?"

"No."

"Would you like to schedule your appointment now?"

"Yeah."

"I'm going to transfer you to an appointment planner, please hold on," I press the transfer button on the phone and wait for the beep. After that, I hang up the phone and lie my head on the table. I can't think of anything worse than having to tell someone they have cancer. Whatever. It's eight o'clock. I have to get to the emergency room for my shift.

* * *

><p>This was hard for me to write.<p>

Annie has her own account now. Link will be on my profile soon.

New chapter tomorrow (hopefully),

Johanna


	21. Part 2, Chapter 2

Chapter 2

My immune system hates me.

I'm sick. Working at the hospital has finally taken it's toll on me. It's a beautiful June Saturday, and I'm stuck in doors lying on the couch and watching stupid daytime television. I'm not alone at home, though. Apollo doesn't have class until Tuesday, and Aemelia is moping around about her new boyfriend.

"Move your feet," Apollo says as he walks into the den. I move my feet and he collapses on the couch. "I'm bored."

"I'm sick."

"Guess what I found."

"Don't care. I'm trying to watch... something."

"My video camera," he shoves the camera in my face. I roll my eyes.

"Oh _god_. I thought you stopped the camera thing for good."

"Nope. I decided to call the guys and they should be over within the hour," he starts pressing buttons on his camera and points it at me. I scowl and cover the lens with my hand.

"You're stupid. I'm sick, remember?"

"I know. And don't worry, your mom is cool with it," he gently pushes me off the couch and I land on the floor. There is no way I'm getting out of this.

"Fine. I'll take something." I stumble into the kitchen to take some cold medicine, which, may I add, is the most god damned revolting shit on this planet. Seriously. If you've ever tasted cherry cold medicine, you know what I'm talking about.

Apollo's friends arrive at about eleven o'clock. I'm lying on the couch because I still feel like shit. Of course, the group consists of Caius, Ceres, Priam, Caliban, and two other guys named Rian and Isareal. The boys gather on the floor around me and talk about stuff like sports. I'm totally zoned out until someone mentions the words "lamb stew."

"What about lamb stew?" I say. They all give me strange looks.

"You really _are_ sick, Hera," Priam says, "We were talking about Ghram's tattoo place on Second Street. You know, Isareal's older brother?" Yes, I know, and he's a douchebag. "So anyway, Cal and I were thinking about getting another one on our chest, like right here," he gestures to the area over his heart.

"Of what?" Rian asks him.

"There's a quote that we both really like... No one should negotiate their dreams. Dreams must be free to fly high-" Priam starts.

"No government, no legislature, has a right to limit your dreams. You should never agree to surrender your dreams." Caliban finishes the sentence for him. They do that a lot. Priam glares at him.

"Who's that by?" I ask them.

"I don't really know. It was in a book that we found," Priam stretches out on the floor. Apollo pokes the bottom of my foot an I curl up in my blanket. I am in no mood to be messed with right now. Apollo pokes me again. I kick the back of his head gently.

"How has working at the hospital been?" Caliban asks me. I shrug and pull the blanket around my neck.

"It's been horrible. Seriously. My interns are the stupidest people that I've ever met." That makes the group laugh, "I'm being totally serious. I was telling a pediatric patient about the story of Sisyphus and one of them asked me, in front of the patient, if it was an STD. Then, I had to explain to a seven year old boy what a sexually transmitted disease is. I should have had the intern do it. God I hate them."

"Wow. I'm glad I'm not your interns. They sound like hell." Rian says to me. He's working under his dad as a medical assistant, "So what are you in right now? Internal medicine?" I nod, "How's that?"

"I just told you. It's hell." That make the group laugh again. I guess I'm funny when I'm sick. "I dunno. I friggin' hate internal medicine. I want to change over to alternative."

"Is that like, plants and stuff?" Isareal asks me.

"Yeah. My dad's not going to be happy about it. I've been taking over most of his patients when he's too swamped to take care of them..." Aemelia enters the room with a tray of chicken and I trail off. It's no point. I've totally lost the boys to the power of Aemelia's chicken. The only thing better than her chicken is the lamb stew that everyone seems to be obsessed with.

"My sister bought 'Katniss colored' eye shadow," Isareal laments to the rest of us. I guess I'm not the only one who thinks rapidly.

"What the hell is 'Katniss colored'?" Rian says, picking up a piece of chicken.

"I'm guessing it's some sort of green and gold mix. Maybe dark grey," I say, stealing the chicken out of his hands. He glares at me and picks up another piece.

"This has always been the biggest problem with the Hunger Games. They're way too commercialized. Posters, jewelry, friggin' _makeup_," Caius shakes his head.

"Oh come on. It's not that bad," one of the other guys says, "It's not like they're selling action figures like they did with Finnick."

We spend most of the rest of the afternoon eating and talking about nothing in particular. These people have the weirdest interest in my magickal abilities.

* * *

><p>Annie and took a short vacation over the weekend. Hope it was good for you too!<br>has been giving me hell lately, sorry if my posts are late this week..

-Johanna


	22. Part 2, Chapter 3

Chapter 3

I didn't know how to swear until I started driving.

I am going to have two children, one son and one daughter. The son will be born first, and then two to three years later I will have my daughter. I'm going to name my son Magnus and my daughter Marceline, and the boy's nickname will be Butters and the girl's nickname will be Twinkie. Yep, that's going to be my life in 15 years.

"Doctor Vasik, mister McCormick is in for is post-op examine. He's in room 213," my intern Nettie wakes me from my daydream. I snatch the clipboard from him and read it over. That's right, I've been here for about a month and I already have interns. They are probably the stupidest people I know, at least mine are, anyway. I'm their second resident they've had this year, and it's obvious why. They don't know what they're doing, they're stupid, and they're immature. I'm not saying all interns are like this, but I wouldn't really know. I was never an intern, so I don't really feel any sympathy.

Mister McCormick was one of my dad's patients, but my dad is too lazy or busy to see most of his post-op so I have to take him. He came in this morning with a shattered radius, never telling my dad or me why. I get to his room, and take down his vitals, checking his arm. It's not overly swollen, and the stitches aren't infected so I leave. It's five o'clock, and that was my last patient so I'm good to go get some food. The air quality's been kind of bad and he doesn't want my asthma to act up so he's been driving me to work. I lock up my small closet of an office and start out of the hospital. I stop when I hear shouting from outside the building.

"Hey Thea, what's going on?" I ask the nurse at the front desk. Thea's a very thin, darker skinned woman with almost metallic violet hair. Her daughter is friends with Aemelia. She leans over the desk and squints to see what's going on through the glass walls. She sits down at her desk and frowns.

"Look's like a strike's going on," she says, organizing papers on her desk. I groan and lean back on the wall. "You might be here for a while. Cracker?" she holds a box of crackers in front of my face. I push the box a way and slide to the floor. I just want to go home. This is why, for the only time in my life, I am relieved when Apollo calls me.

"Are you coming to rehearsals or should I tell Adriana that you're stuck in the office. She won't be pissed if you miss it, you know most of the routine already," he says, obviously driving.

"There's a strike going on outside of the hospital. I can't leave," I say quietly.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah."

"Well that sucks. How long do you think you're gonna be there?"

"I dunno," I put the phone down and turn to Thea, "How long do you think the strike is going to last?"

"Who knows, honey," she says.

"Dammit," I mutter, "You still there?"

"Yeah," he says. The lack of static and the growing voices from the other line states that he's out of the car and walking into the studio.

"Well I'm pretty much stuck in here for the rest of the strike. I'm not sure when it's going to end."

"Okay. I'll tell Adriana. Have fun at the hospital."

"You're real helpful. See ya," we both hang up and I keep sitting on the floor. Bored. I guess I could look around. Not much to explore, though. I've seen just about every room now, but I could always look around in the gift shop or get something to eat in the cafeteria. And on the bright side, my dad's office isn't closed so I could always go on his computer and wait for him to drive me home. Gift shop. I get stuff for free there, anyway.

It's a pretty small place next to the cafeteria. A little short woman named Wilone and her daughter Alisz have run it for as long as I can remember. I wander into the store and realize that Isareal was right. It seems like there are a lot of Hunger Games items in the store. Replicas of my tribute's pin, jewelry, balloons, even rubber ducks. Holy crap. I pick up one of the pins. Nice quality. I fish around in my pocket for some money and buy the item. I'm not really sure what the bird on it is, but it doesn't matter. It's cool. I stuff the pin in my pocket and go back to Thea's desk. It hasn't been more than maybe six minutes, so even without looking I know the strike is still going on. Thea lets me sit on the floor behind the desk like she used to when I was little and used to play doctor or bomb squad or whatever I wanted to be.

* * *

><p>A few hours pass before the Peacekeepers come and stop the strike. I'm not really sure what it was about, nor do I care. It's almost nine o'clock and I want to go home. Luckily, I have the day off tomorrow while the interns try to go it alone. Yay. Apollo should be back at my house, probably lying on the couch complaining to Aemelia about how sore he is. Home sweet home.<p>

* * *

><p>Sorry for the delay guys : these new site updates are killing me.

More posts coming your way,

Johanna MacUallis.


	23. Part 2, Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Why did the baby cross the road? Because it was stapled to the chicken.

Something's been eating at Apollo ever since the strike at the hospital. He won't tell me what, so I can't help him. He might be nervous since we're performing tonight, but you can't really tell. Oh well. My dad gave me the day off because of it, probably because he want Aemelia to make me beautiful. I need it, since I've been spending more than ten hours working in a busy emergency room for the past week. I look like a zombie with insomnia.

I hate it when Aemelia brushes my hair. It's not her fault, it's just that I have a lot of really long, really frizzy hair. I try to brush it, but every time I think I get it smooth, it just frizzes back up again. Life really isn't fair that way, but what'cha gonna do about it? It usually takes hours to get it into a manageable condition, which is why I don't go out into public very often. Well, that's not really the reason, but I like to think it is.

"Do you have any idea why there was a strike a few days ago?" I ask Aemelia.

"No," she frowned. I've lived with her too long, I know she's hiding something.

"You're lying to me." She says nothing. "Come on Aemelia, I know you want to tell me." She purses her lips and continues to brush my hair. I sigh and stay quiet, making the moment awkward intentionally.

"Some people were protesting against the government. I don't know why. If you tell your mom that I told you I swear to god I'm gonna murder you in your sleep," she blurts out. I struggle to keep from laughing. Aemelia gets so worked up about not being able to talk, and then when she does start talking she can't because she's so angry. Sigh, I love this chick. She's practically my sister. She's been around since before I was born. She's not that much older than I, being only twenty-six. In the seventeen years I've known her, she's never once told me much of her life. The most I've gotten out of her is that she came here when she was seven, and will stay here until she dies. She tugs at a knot, making me squeak.

"Sorry," she says, not stopping brushing my hair. She just brushes it harder, making me cringe.

"Watch it. That _hurts._"

"_Sorry_! Jesus. Your hair is really frizzy today."

"Oh _stop_! I'll do it myself," I grab the brush from her hand and start untangling the little knots at the end. "Get out my costume please." she walks out of my bathroom and returns a few minutes later. I have to go back to work tomorrow, which is unfortunate. I'm going to be exhausted, and then I have to deal with my idiotic interns. Meh. Until then, I better enjoy the day while I can. Two hours until the performance, one and one half hours to get dressed and ready. Good bye freedom.

Aemelia brings in my costume, which contains so much pink that my brain will probably explode. Pink. Diana would have killed to have this wardrobe, and have it covered in diamonds. Such a priss.

I guess that this won't be so bad. It could be worse. My dad could have signed me up for a night shift in the maternity ward. I shudder. That place is torture, whether a woman's in labor or not. Most women are bitchy when they're pregnant, and you can't deny that. I dress into my first costume

I'm fidgety. That's just the way I am. I can sit still for a while, I just bite my nails and scratch at stuff. Not my fault, I was raised like that. My dad's the same way. He and I just can't sit still for long periods of time. It's kind of annoying, but it apparently means that I'm smart.

"I'm gonna just nuke your dinner when you get home, okay Hera?" Aemelia calls from the kitchen. I'm sitting in my bedroom editing some pictures I drew. Apollo should be here any minute to pick me up. I still need to fix his car.

"Yeah whatever," I yell. Suddenly I hear a door slam, which is most likely Apollo's doing. He doesn't know his own strength. I save my work and run as fast as I can down stairs in four-inch heels. Apollo opens the door again and we both rush out, because Adriana will murder us both if we do not make it there on time. Murder us brutally, may I add, with the sledge hammer that they keep for emergencies. Adriana may be pint sized, but she's a frickin' pit bull.


	24. Part 2, Chapter 5

Chapter 5

I get nose bleeds when I'm under stress.

I have to say that our performance was amazing. Probably the best premiere I've ever been in. Or, almost. The last kiss that was choreographed was too real. I guess Apollo's just going through hormonal changes, or he was uncharacteristically nervous. Not that big of a deal, just a little bit creepy. I mean, well- actually, I don't really know where this is going.

I drive home this time. Apollo told me that he has a headache. I'm glad that we drove instead of walked. I'm starving, and it takes a while to walk home from the theater, especially in heels. Pink heels. So much pink…

Apollo mumbles that he's going to bed as soon as we get home. I eat my pasta and return to my drawings. Next show isn't for a week, which is bad for me but good for everyone else. Hn. They don't have to deal with interns.

I don't know how much I have to say it, but I hate my interns. I especially dislike Nettie. She's not ready to work in a real hospital. She should still be in medical school. She freezes up at critical moments, is easily confused, and is always late for rounds. The other four are starting to get it, a little bit. I only have five rules: Walk when I walk, answer pages immediately, don't start relationships with the patients, get as much sleep as possible when possible, and… one other thing that I can't remember at the moment. God I'm tired.

It starts out as a usual day and the hospital. Whining family members, relentless patients, annoying interns- no big deal.

Basem Maddox decided to go through with a mastectomy. Stotch and I will check up on him after he's out of surgery. Zealand Stotch is one of my dad's friends from high school. They kind of have a bromance going on, and probably always will. I've already told you about Zealand's son, Rian. He's cool, we just don't really get together that much anymore. Zealand is a nice old doctor, always going to the pediatric department and reading to the children.

Anyway, Apollo calls me to tell me that he's going over to a friend's house. Didn't tell me who, but it doesn't matter. The intern I named Bibbles, tall guy with blindingly neon curly yellow hair, gives me some charts to sign.

"Um... Doctor Vasik?" he says in a loud whisper before leaving the room. I look around the room, and even though we're alone in the room, I reply in a similar loud whisper.

"What do you want Bibbles?"

"Do you know what the symptoms of..." he closes his mouth. I never said he was smart.

"Honey I don't have all day. What's up and why are you whispering?"

"Never mind, not important. I'll ask someone else," he trips nervously while walking out of the room.

"What's wrong? Do you have an STD or something?" He stops and stares at me.

"How did you know?"

"Lucky guess. Anyway, you're an idiot. Go to room 101 and find doctor Prynne. You know what, let me take you there. You probably don't even know what I am talking about." he opens his mouth to protest, but thinks better of it and closes it. Poor, poor intern. Why did I have to get the stupid ones. We start out of the room and walk through the crowded hallways to the east side of the hospital. This place is huge. Seriously, it's as big as about nine acres, and that's just the building itself. I've never seen the rest of the grounds.

"Who was it?" I ask.

"I'm not comfortable telling you," he replies.

"Nettie?" he stays silent. "So was it Nettie?"

"I hate you," he looks away from me.

"Don't hate me, hate my mad guessing skills. Tell her that she should be tested."

I drop him off at room 101 and leave immediately. Doctor Prynne is a creepy person. Rumor has it that she killed her first husband after she had an affair with a younger man. Her daughter is even scarier. I swear to god she's the spawn of the devil. My father never let me go around her when I was little, I have to plan on going anywhere near around her now.

Surprisingly, I'm not as busy as I thought I would be, being a doctor and all. I'm more of my dad's work monkey than a real physician. I mean I am certified and everything, and I have my own office, but I have patients that my father is too busy (too lazy, really) to see.

I get a call from Apollo after about two hours of doing practice work that my dad's having me do. Apparently he doesn't like the way I do stitches.

"Which of you witch plants are good for headaches?" he says hoarsely from the other line.

"Oh _poor_ baby. Are you sick?" I say in a sickening motherly tone.

"I'm pretty sure I have a cold," he lets out a painful sounding cough.

"If you have a headache, you should have Aemelia make you a tea of... go to my cabinet"

"Yeah."

"Okay..." I take a moment to think, "Once you get there, take a handful of comfrey leaves and mix in in a bag with some fennel, and give the bag to Aemelia and tell her to make you some tea. That should clear up your cough. Anything else?"

"My feet hurt from standing so much, anything for that?"

"You are such a woman. Go take the bag to Aemelia and go watch television. I'll be home at five-ish with some real medicine."

"I'm not a woman, I'm just sick."

"Sure. Bye."

"Bye."

Don't listen to Apollo, he's a woman on the inside and he knows it and is secretly proud.

* * *

><p>I'm not dead yet. See you on Monday.<p> 


	25. Part 2, Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Always look on the bright side of life... yeah...

Apollo and I had our final show last night and now my life consists of eating, sleeping, and working in a busy hospital.

Apollo will be a stylist in next year's games if all goes well. He will probably get District 11, but he's fine with that. "A little dirt never hurt anyone." Strange guy, Apollo is. He's a princess, there's no doubt about that, but he's also pretty strong. Not afraid to stand up for what he believes in. He's gotten into trouble by doing that at school, but he's smart enough not to get himself killed.

He's finally out of his bitchy stage. Unfortunately for me, that means I have to be his model for his fashion class. I'm not at all close to being a model. I'm five-foot seven, a little bit on the larger side (to quote Aemelia "You have curves, Hera. Very large, squishy curves."), and my legs are kind of shortish. Oh well. Blame genetics.

I get every other Monday off from work now. And for my first day off, I will be standing on a platform in Apollo's bedroom while he pins the fabric for a dress around me.

"Hera, if you don't stand still you might get stuck," he says to me. Of course, I get stuck with a pin. "I told you."

"How come I got stuck with the nickname Mister Magnificent?" I say to Apollo.

"That was random."

"Sorry. Just thinking."

"Because according our previous female classmates, you are the ideal boyfriend," he says, tightening the fabric around my back and chest. Very tight.

"Oh yeah." I gasped for breath. Apollo loosened the fabric with a apologetic smile, "Thank you."

"No problem," more silence while he adjusts things around me.

"So why are you making this dress?" must break silence. Bored.

"I'm supposed to make a silk evening dress for my class. The person who gets the highest grade will be first on the list for the districts next year."

"Well that's nice."

"It's more than nice, Hera. It will be the start of my career if I do well on this project..." and here we go. Talking about how he really enjoys design school and how he is really looking forward to working with the tributes and the prep teams and whatnot. Time for mind wandering. I need to clean out Prince's ears. They are starting to make him itch. That activity is probably the most disgusting thing I have ever done in my life, including caring for people with flesh eating bacteria. I glance out his bedroom for a second. Out side of the Justice building is a massive group of people just standing there. Not moving, not shouting, just standing. What the hell? Whatever. Apollo sticks me again in the boob.

"Would you stop that? I hate you," I say as I jerk and slap the side of his head.

"Sorry." I can tell that he's trying his hardest not to laugh. Men...

I must say, being a dress form is awful. I am covered in about a hundred tiny little prick marks. It probably looks like I was attacked by a porcupine. The dress looks nice though, and that's all that really matters to Apollo.

"Okay, now I have to math," Apollo says to me after I get out of the dress and get dressed my self.

"You have to math? Really?" I say, looking over his shoulder. "You weren't supposed to carry the one there."

"I never said I was good at it. It's calculating the cost of dress."

"Sucks for you. I'm gonna go do something out of the house," I pat him on the head and walk out of his room and down the stairs and out of the house. Now what should I do? I haven't really had the chance to go anywhere... but it's my day off and I still have a few more hours of sunlight before dinner. You know who I haven't seen in a while? Clarisse Autry. We went to grade school together but when high school came around, she went to some fancy musical school. We used to say that if I was a guy, she would definitely date me. That's probably why I was voted the manliest person in the class. I pull my mobile phone out of my pocket and text her.

_Hey Clar. You want to come over? _It takes her a few minutes to respond.

_Ya sure. _

_Yay. Bring cards. We can play speed._

_Great :) See u soon._

I put my phone away and sit on the curb. Clarisse can drive, and she's a pretty crazy driver, so really don't have to wait that long. Fifteen minutes maybe. So that's what I do. I sit on the curb and text my other friends. Fifteen minutes goes by and Clarisse finally arrives in her awesome neon green sports car. She prances out of her car in her happy trot.

"Hey mister Magnificent!" She attacks me in a giant hug. I laugh and hug her back.

"Hi Clar. Come on in, we can get started on our tournament."

"Okay." Clarisse is a lot like me thought wise. We both think that excessive surgery is gross and we both dress in more comfortable clothing. But look wise, she's about three inches shorter than me, with olive skin and dark brown hair. She almost looks like someone from District 12.

"Apollo!" I call to him from downstairs.

"What?"

"Say hi to Clarisse."

"Oh my god! I haven't seen you in forever, Clarisse!" he looks over the railing from the second story, "How are you?"

"I'm okay, just dying in medical school. What about you?"

"I'm in design school, actually."

"That's awesome."

"Hey are you hungry?" I interrupt their conversation. She shakes her head, but follows me into the kitchen anyway. She pulls a pack of cards out of her pocket and sets it on the table. I sit down while she shuffles the cards.

"Don't you think that Peeta is the hottest tribute that they've had so far?" she says. Not this again. She does this every freakin' year. I'm not kidding.

"No. Finnick is the hottest. End of story."

"Are you kidding?" she puts her hand of cards face down on the table and stares at me, "You are insane. Peeta is _way _more attractive than Finnick. On the slight chance that you become someone or meet someone super famous, please try to set me up with Peeta. He can't be that much older than me..."

"Keep dreaming." She glares at me good heartedly and we continue our game. Prince saunters into the kitchen happily, which makes Clarisse jump about a foot out of her seat.

"Ohmygod do not let him touch me!" she says to me. Clarisse is allergic to canine saliva. And most animal hair.

"Oh please. He's afraid of you," I shake my head and finish placing my cards in the piles, "Speed."

"You cheated."

"You lie."

"As much as I would... _love _to stand here and listen to you two fight like a married couple," Apollo says from the doorway, making us both turn to see him, "I just found some old recordings that I took. Want to watch?" Clarisse and I look at each other, shrug, and follow him into the den.

* * *

><p>The Finnick vs. Peeta argument actually happened to me once. It was one of the most pathetic bus conversations ever. And violently worded. Annie... ;)<p>

Anyway... my biggest test of my life is OVER. My afternoons are now devoted to this... kind of.

Lots of love. Rate and review.

Johanna


	26. Part 2, Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Apollo's hobby is taking really annoying videos of my friends and me.

Clarisse and I relax on the couch while Apollo unplugs my gaming console and plugs in the card reader. Disks like the ones that my video games are made on went out of use before I was born. Now everything is on small cards, like those you would find in an old digital camera.

"I'm pretty sure this one is from the eighth grade," he says, cramming himself between Clarisse and me. I groan and close my eyes. I was such a bitch in the eighth grade.

"_Are you recording?_" the fourteen year old, but still very pink, Diana asks the fourteen year old Apollo.

"_Yeah. You ready?_"

"_Hell yeah_."

"I really hate how we always used to say things like that. God that's annoying," Clarisse mutters. The young Diana takes a deep breath and cartwheels across our old homeroom class room.

"Hold on," Current Apollo says. He fast forwards to one of us on the tennis courts. Oh god.

"_Who's serving?_" fourteen year old Apollo asks fourteen year old me.

"_Them,_" I say to him, pointing to Priam and Ceres. The young Priam and Ceres nod their heads and serve the ball. Little me returns the ball and jumps back about a foot.

"_What the hell? Oh god why was the ball wet?_" Young me drops the racquet and walks away from the court. "_Turn the goddamn camera off._" I shake my head. Apollo and Clarisse laugh. Clarisse reaches across me and takes the remote out of Apollo's hand.

"How _did _that ball get wet anyway ?" she asks Apollo while fast forwarding through some more middle school adventures.

"Lake Pennington," he says with a smile. Lake Pennington is the nickname that we gave to the flooded ditch behind the tennis courts at our elementary school, "Caius hit it over the fence." Clarisse stops it at one of the upper grade field trip. This is going to be... interesting. Since we had such small class sizes, for most field trips it was the upper grades, which were the fifth through eighth grade. Fun times. Little me is sitting next to little Caius on the bus. Horrible, loud, uncomfortable bus. I'm spread out while Caius is leaning over the side of his chair talking to Ceres. I'm listening to music, presumably some sort of show tune. Apollo zooms in on my face and I look at him coldly.

"_Stop that,_" I mouth, looking away from the camera. He zooms out. Caius is watching some movie, I squint to see what movie is playing, and my eyes widen.

"_What?_" Apollo says, looking at the screen. I swear that his camera was attached to his face. There is a woman walking around without a shirt on, "_Oh god. Why?_" The camera turns back to me. I'm staring at Caius, and he's looking back at me uncomfortably.

"_You liked those boobs didn't you_," I asked him.

"_Yeah..._" Caius says, looking away from young me. I turned back to the movie with a skeptical expression, shrugged my shoulders, and said, "_Eh, you have the right. They're pretty nice for someone her age_." I put my head in my hands. Clarisse pats my shoulder and says, "You were such a boy."

"No wonder everyone called you Mister Magnificent," Apollo says. I can hear the stifled laugh that's hiding in him. I was also referred to as a boy. 'This is Hera. He's in my class,' and things like that. I should call up Caius sometime. Not sure if Diana would like that, but I really need help beating this one video game, and he's pretty good at them.

* * *

><p>I apologize for the filler :P Remember how I said that school was pretty much over for me? Yeah, forget that. I'm still working on 8 and 9, but look forward to Monday. And also, <strong>RATE AND REVIEW <strong>so I know that you still like me.

Johanna


	27. Please read this

**I'm going to go on a "hiatus" for a week or two.. at most three.**

In those two weeks I am going to write a graduation speech, a few new chapters, and I am going to help DoktorVolf with her long delayed fanfic. I'm also coming down with something semi awful... it's starting to feel like influenza...

**DoktorVolf's account has been HACKED. She wants to apologize to all the people who favorited and reviewed her story. **(Yes, Shayna and Hera are very similar look wise. I came up with the character first, she wrote the fanfiction first).

Lemon Zest Luna bars are kind of good.

Rate and review so that I have some motivation, please.


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